Amaryllis and Aconite
by Stewbacca94
Summary: The War of the Roses has nothing on the conflict between the pride of Weiss Schnee and the misanthropy of an enemy dedicated to her fall. Weiss must employ the virtue of teamwork to overcome her adversary, or the SDC will fall to ruin. RWBY Belladonna Lilies AU.
1. Hide and Sneak

Chapter 1 – Hide and Sneak

_Soundtrack: Red Right Hand – Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds_

23rd of July, 1890.

At half-past ten on an unusually balmy summer's night, the streets of Rotherham were quiet, but not flat-out silent. At this hour, the town's collection of drunks were on their way home from a night on the tiles, and the local lawmen were doing what they could to corral them into their homes or the Black Marias. However, one woman stood out in the gloom. She was garbed with a knee-length dress which featured a shade of red so deep, it looked black under the night sky. Black knee-length boots adorned her stockinged feet, and a single aconite was lodged in the black wide-brimmed hat plastered on her head, which harboured an enigmatic, yet confident face with amber eyes that seemed to glow in the dark.

If a trained eye were to look at her in broad daylight, she would be identified as a person that could only be bred and raised in one location; Hong Kong. Half of her ancestry on both sides hailed from various parts of England, and she was a fluent speaker of the language. However, her mother's maternal family hailed from Hokkaido, and the family name her father had been bestowed with was Mandarin.

The woman strode purposefully down Masbrough Street and turning right at the railway line, caring naught for the people around her as she approached and entered the Rotherham Masbrough railway station. Of course, she'd bought the building out at the start of the year for her purposes, under one of the aliases she had garnered in her twenty-eight years. Whilst she answered to many names, only two of them were names she actually had any regard for. The first of these was a name she solely used for correspondence to her employees in Hong Kong, and the surname came first as the Chinese language dictated.

The second name, however, was English. It too was used for one sole purpose; specifically, it was the name she was called by those people that fell under her_ personal_ employ. A smoke-screen to her true identity, even though it was an obvious clue to anyone who was fluent in both Chinese and English. It was this guise that she had used to hide behind since the Tenebrae Club's destruction in October last year.

Her birth name was Qiū Méizhā.

Her _nom de plume _was Cinder Fall.

"Is tonight t' night, boss?"

Cinder turned to her left as the Rotherham native on her staff approached her. He was dressed like a stereotypical workman of the area; black jeans with steel-capped boots, along with a grey dress shirt with the sleeves scrunched up. His hair, originally alabaster, was showing signs of going grey prematurely, and his thin backside and general odour was indicative of a severe drinking problem.

"Yes it is," Cinder replied in flawless English. "I've set the charge already, and we'll be the ones to contact the authorities when we're finished with the haul."

"We're not stealing Dust or parts from this, are we?", asked the third occupant of the railway master's cottage. She wore a mint-green veil over her black hair, which matched the pant-suit she wore along with a white shirt-waist and a matching pair of riding boots.

"Indeed, Emerald," her employer purred. "We're stealing something _far _more valuable tonight."

Turning to face both her staff, Cinder gave the next instruction based on her reconnaissance.

"Mercury and Emerald, you are to go to the third carriage along the train once it derails, and find a briefcase in brown leather with the Schnee's family crest printed on it in silver. Take it, and nothing else, from the train. You'll then return from the crash and Mercury will send for the authorities. The train should derail in twenty minutes from now, so get into position."

"Yes ma'am!" and "Got it!" were the respective replies of the thief and the butcher as they departed the cottage and went to their signal switch on lookout.

"All according to plan," Cinder purred in a whisper as she began to go over the plans she had long since written in her diary. "Once we've worked out which SDC-exclusive items are needed for the blueprints, we'll go to the SDC warehouses in Sheffield and Cardiff next month with a shopping list, and use whatever funds we get from selling this place to purchase that warehouse in the Surrey dock at Rotherhithe."

She then smiled nastily as her avarice overrode her composure, her voice shifting to a menacingly quiet hiss. "And then, I'll dispose of those two goons as leavings for the law, and sail off to my homeland to deny the Schnees any chance of pillaging the Dust deposits that my family still owns. I will show the leaders of my homeland what Dust can _really _do in the right hands; we will get immense amounts of trade with less developed countries with the technology I wish to steal."

Cinder's face and tone darkened at this point, to show the hatred that she had for one wealthy family.

"And then, I will have enough money to buy the Schnees out completely. Fitting revenge for what they did twenty years ago."

* * *

5th of September, 1890.

The Rotherhithe docks managed to glisten in the autumn evening, with plenty of Dust-driven boats and harbour lights causing the Thames to glow like it had Chinese lanterns within. Moored to one of the largest piers within was the Autumn Maiden, one of the most advanced ships in England. That last fact was unsurprising, given that it was under the aegis of the Schnee Dust Company.

However, the shadowy lanes and alleys behind the moors were cold and distant, giving a strange dichotomy between the progress of technology and the decay of urbanised life. And it was within one such shadow on the west side of the Canada Docks, nestled within a small laneway that the Deal Porter's Way separated from the Autumn Maiden's berth, that four young, adventurous women awaited the arrival of their quarry – with varying degrees of patience.

"You said they'd arrive here at seven, right Weiss?"

"Ruby," Weiss Schnee whispered forcefully from behind a wooden crate on the right, "_please _keep quiet. I didn't say they'd _get here_ at seven; I'd said that the security force breaks for dinner _at_ seven. If there's anything planned, it'll happen _after_ that point."

"Sorry," Ruby Rose guiltily replied from her post within a barrel on the opposite side.

"It's alright, Ruby," Yang Xiao Long whispered from behind Ruby's barrel. "I know what it's like to be kept in the dark on the job. Just follow Weiss's lead and we'll be right."

"Thanks, Yang," Ruby whispered back. "I know Weiss is being professional. Same as Blake up on the rafters."

Sure enough, Blake Belladonna was deathly silent as she overlooked each of the four entrances to the docks, with Gambol Shroud hidden beneath her leather jacket. Yang Xiao Long, meanwhile, watched for any movement behind the four women, crouched behind the barrel her half-sister was sequestered within. Crescent Rose was in carbine mode beneath Ruby's cloak, and Yang's gauntlets had been donned before the four left the Snow Castle. Weiss, meanwhile, gripped Myrtenaster tightly as she trained her eyes on the north-western side of the docks, which had the least number of defences – and therefore the highest risk of infiltration. _Even though Blake's better than anyone possibly __can__ be at scouting in the dark_, Weiss reasoned, _it wouldn't hurt to have an extra pair of eyes on the lookout for our targets_. Two minutes later, Weiss's instincts were proven right. She spied a young woman with tanned skin crouching behind a stack of crates at the very entrance she'd been watching.

"Gypsy spotted on far left," Weiss uttered quietly. A second later, Blake threw Yang a thumbs up, and Yang nodded to Weiss.

_Good; Blake won't lose track of her now_, Weiss observed confidently. As she shifted her gaze towards the place Emerald had hidden within, Blake noticed a second figure creeping along the pier from the north-eastern side. She leaned down to Yang, holding up a trilby cap and pointing to the location.

"Magsman approaching from far right," Yang hissed to Weiss, who nodded sharply.

"Very well," she whispered back. "Blake will keep an eye on them both, but we'll need to wait until the guards leave … which should be in six minutes, on my watch. Got that, Blake?"

Yang looked up, then nodded back at her employer. Weiss smiled and turned to face the pair, who definitely lived up to their reputation for professionalism and affability.

"Alright. It's now a game of hide and sneak."

Merely half a minute later, Weiss got pelted with a crumpled piece of paper from above. Taking the paper, Weiss read a missive that bore Blake's handwriting.

_One more joke like that from you, and I'll scar your other eye._

Weiss smiled warmly at Blake's faux threat. _My crabby tabby loves me too much to do something __that__ cruel to me_, she joked to herself.

* * *

It was another four minutes before the bell was rung for dinner, and the workers departed their posts for the Leadbelly's bar on the northern edge of the area.

"Ruby," Weiss commanded gently, "stay with me, and keep one hand under your cloak. Blake, you'll take the lead without Gambol Shroud drawn; Yang, you're on point. Move out."

Blake slid down the drain pipe next to Yang, then moved to the front of the group. Ruby jumped out of the barrel and did a three-point landing next to Weiss. She stood in a hunched position, with her left hand behind her back and beneath her cloak as ordered. Yang got to her feet, and completed the diamond formation.

Blake watched as Emerald and Mercury met along the bridge that straddled the entryway to the quays, then walked calmly towards the western lane. The secretarial ninja held her hand up in a clenched fist, and the other three girls crouched behind the crates Weiss had been using. Not two seconds later, the pair of marks turned towards the pier halfway along the western edge. As soon as they hit the pier, Blake began to move forward, signalling the other three to follow closely.

After they crossed the road, Blake led the team into a hedgerow on the right of the docks, and pulled out her binoculars while the other three crouched still and blended in to the scenery. What she saw beggared belief; instead of releasing the ship from it's moorings, the pair were holding brushes that were loaded with red paint. Emerald spent the next minute copying a design that Mercury held in his hand onto the ship's gangway. From what she could see, it looked like an eye on its side, within two concentric circles. Five short lines fanned out from the "bottom" of the eye, and three more extended from the inner circle – like the cardinal directions on a map.

Once Emerald was done, she and Mercury walked to a waiting horse, and made a beeline for where the Thames met the Canada docks, with Blake crouching down to deliver her report to her employer.

"All they did was paint a weird-looking pattern on the gangway, then they went north-west. Looked like a eye on it's side, with two concentric circles around it and eight lines jutting from it."

Weiss looked as perplexed as Blake felt at that point.

"_What?!_", she hissed. "Why on earth would they paint a strange mark on a ship? They could've stolen it from the guard's noses before now."

"They're marking it so others can steal it, I think."

All three heads turned to Ruby.

"I mean," she continued to whisper, "they'd stand a better chance of escaping if they had more people. Therefore, it stands to reason that they're leaving a sign for some hired goons to secure the ship for them, while they ready their belongings or something."

Weiss and Blake exchanged surprised glances, then nodded. "That makes sense, Ruby," the former replied. "In the face of this logic, you'd probably suggest guarding the ship and protecting it from all comers, right?"

Ruby nodded. "Yeah – or at least, until the guards return from their dinner break."

Weiss found herself agreeing with the younger woman's assessment. Even though she now oversaw the funding of the Schnee Dust Company's security team and led the investigators while Jonathan Strauss dealt with training and assigning the guards, Weiss hadn't had the years of field experience her employees had. Blake was better than any human could be at stealth, and Yang had long since proven herself to be equally strong and intimidating. But now, Weiss knew that she'd found a great field commander and strategist in Ruby Rose; with her knowhow and resources backing the fledgling team, she now felt more confident in their chances of preventing a robbery.

"Very well. Blake, get into the trees and keep an eye out for our marks on the southwest entrance. Yang, you and I will stand on the gangway and keep guard. Ruby, get into the crow's nest with your elephant gun out, and prepare to cripple anyone who dares board the ship."

* * *

**A/N: I've been waiting a _long_ time to finally get this one off the ground. Here is the fifth installment in the Belladonna Lilies AU, picking up directly after the main fic's conclusion.**

**I will point out that the aconite stands for misanthropy in the language of flowers. I picked that flower because I couldn't find one that represented prejudice, and the alliterative title appealed to me.**

**EDIT: Thanks to the reviewer who pointed out that Qiu is a more realistic name than Qiuji as far as Chinese surnames go. I've gone and fixed that mistake.**


	2. Human Chastity Belt

Chapter 2 – Human Chastity Belt

_Soundtrack: Robbery, Assault and Battery – Genesis_

5th of September, 1890.

Two minutes later, everyone was within position. Ruby unfolded her weapon and braced her elephant gun with the scythe blade, finding the crow's nest to be a good place for standing watch over the whole western side of the docks. The scope of her elephant's gun was currently pointed at the entrance to the gangway, and her finger was ready to fire at a moment's notice. Blake, meanwhile, had somehow managed to ascend into the canopy of an ancient oak tree without dirtying or tearing her clothes. The tree she was in had branches that overlooked the south-western entrance, giving her pantherine eyes a great view of the path the goons were likely to use. Blake removed her bow, allowing her extra ears to assist in sifting through the general urban noise that invaded her senses.

Weiss stood imperiously on the gangway with Myrtenaster in her left hand, and Yang had drawn her scatterguns out for use. Weiss noticed that the guns had names inscribed on their stocks; Ember on the left gun, and Celica on the right.

"Out of curiosity, Yang," Weiss asked quietly, "how come you named your guns Ember Celica?"

Yang gave her the self-satisfied smirk that preceded her brand of comedy.

"Because I like _peppering _my enemies with Dust bullets."

If the audience had been anyone else, Yang would have been slapped across the cheek for her atrocious pun. However, much to Yang's considerable surprise, Weiss chuckled softly in response.

"I might just like you, Yang."

"Why thanks, Weiss-cream!"

Weiss's smile faded _instantly_, and Yang felt the tip of Myrtenaster at her throat.

"Don't push your luck."

"Whoa, sorry there Weiss," Yang breathed. "Didn't realise you hated puns about your name."

"Of _course _I do! I have a standard to live up to," Weiss softly retorted. The fact that Blake called her "Snow Angel" out of habit was conveniently forgotten at that moment.

"Noted," Yang gingerly acceded as her gaze returned to the pier. Her speech sounded unusually stilted as a result, which Weiss picked up on like a hawk.

"Not used to apologising that much, are you?"

At this accusation, Yang's verve and humour returned. "Weiss, I'm a female bastard who rides a motorcycle and punches people for a living; no one ever _lets_ me apologise!"

Weiss barely had the chance to start laughing when Blake leapt from the tree and onto the gangway, turning to face the front with her bow on her head.

"Eight of them. They're not armed with guns or Dust, but they're masked."

Weiss smirked at this news; these thieves were clearly expecting no resistance while the guards dined. It was a cunning plan, but no plan ever survives contact with the SDC.

"Very well, ladies," Weiss murmured. "Let's give them a warning shot."

* * *

Weiss promptly spun Myrtenaster's Dust chamber to the crimson setting, and shot a fireball above and past Blake and Yang's heads. Ruby, operating on pure instinct, jammed a lightning cartridge in Crescent Rose's chamber and shot the fireball when it was thirty metres in front of her colleagues.

The resultant firestorm landed clear of the gangway, and quickly exposed the eight pirates in gas masks who'd come to steal the Autumn Maiden. Indeed, it actually managed to set fire to two of them before the guards within the pub spotted the commotion and raised the alarm. Yang and Blake began shooting at the pirates as they charged the gangway, while Ruby and Weiss quelled the firestorm with twin blasts of azure Dust. The pirates, having made the classic mistake of bringing knives to a Dust fight, took the only option available at this point; they jumped into the water and swam like buggery to get away from the Autumn Maiden. When the firestorm began to subside, Ruby quickly swung down from a rope to the gangway, with Crescent Rose now in carbine mode, then seized the initiative and led the others.

"Yang, go search for Emerald and Mercury; they'll likely be where the Canada dock meets the Thames. Blake, call in whatever reinforcements you can to protect the ship until it departs. And Weiss, freeze the waters so those pirates don't escape! I'll fill the guards in on what happened."

Weiss held her tongue at the breach of command structure, having realised the validity of Ruby's point, and nodded mutely before running towards the waterfront while Yang and Blake set about their tasks.

However, the pirates had a backup plan of their own. When they saw Weiss conjuring the ice, they held their breaths and ducked beneath the waters. Just in time to avoid Weiss's blast by _millimetres_. Jamming compressed golden Dust cartridges in the gas-mask portholes, they swam hastily beneath the sheet of ice towards their escape vessel; a submarine that had both been fabricated and commandeered at the SDC's waterfront warehouse in Calais.

The lead swimmer opened the hatch easily, and all eight made it inside the decompression chamber before the hatch was shut. They hooked tubes onto their gas masks and started to breathe in oxygen while the water was drained from the chamber. Once finished, the eight pirates clambered into the hallway that linked the engineering hall at the stern with the bridge of the ship, with a ladder leading to the crew quarters in the belly of the ship. While most of the crew clambered down, the rogue who led the attempted raid went to face the music at the prow of the ship. Sitting imperiously at the helm on the bridge was the first mate of the crew, Vera Brennan.

"Failed me again, Ni?"

"Not of our own accord, Brennan. The Schnee wench and her heavies attacked us with Dust and alerted the rozzers about our presence here."

"Captain Fausse won't be pleased, Brawnz," the first mate noted.

"Sure, but she'll understand. That Cinder woman, though … there's just no telling with her."

Vera nodded in response. "Agreed. Still, let the skipper deal with Cinder, after _I _deal with her."

Brawnz nodded, then repaired to his quarters while Vera steered the ship out of the Canada Docks and to the rendezvous point. _Foiled again_, she ruminated angrily, _by forces outside of my sphere of control_. _Just bloody typical_.

* * *

Half an hour later, Emerald and Mercury were waiting impatiently while waiting for the pirate crew to pick them up on the Thames, on the western side of the quay. Mercury glared at his watch, swearing as always that Swiss time was working against him. But perhaps that was bad karma for never paying out of pocket for a watch in his life.

"Should be bloody here by now, t' fucking sea rats," the Yorkshireman started.

"Calm yourself, Mercury," Emerald replied in her strange accent, which blended French and Arabic in even proportions. "They'll be here, one way or the other."

And true to her words, the submarine began to surface in front of them.

"What the … oh, _God-__**fucking**__-dammit!_", Mercury loudly complained. "Of _course_ they're too _bloody_ _pathetic_ to steal a single ship when t' guards weren't there."

"Mercury!", Emerald hissed. "Keep your voice down, unless you want to awaken the whole district."

"Too late for that!"

Mercury didn't have the time to turn before a blonde cannonball nearly knocked his lights out with a single punch. Jumping away, Emerald turned to face their assailant. A tall, blonde girl in a cowboy outfit stood tall, with gauntlets at the ready and a cocky smile adorning her face. As Mercury staggered upwards, Emerald acted quickly and leapt into the Thames, with Mercury following suit by a hair's breadth.

"Oh _damn it_," Yang muttered as the ship moved away. The scatterguns she used were non-lethal and still painful – a perfect choice for a huntress, given that murder was never carried out by their like. However, shooting at a steel-plated submarine with Ember Celica would have been like throwing snowballs at a brick wall.

Yang instead took out a rarely-used notepad and pencil, and wrote a brief description of the submarine as it turned onto the Thames and sunk beneath the waters. She put her equipment away and ran back towards the Canada Docks. Upon her return, the guards were out in full force, having swiftly locked down the dockside from all comers. Weiss waved her through, while Blake and Ruby were conversing with a rather harried policeman, who'd rushed here all guns blazing the minute the alarms rang out.

"What happened to our marks?", Weiss queried.

"They jumped into the Thames when I found them, and got into a submarine," Yang tersely replied.

"_Bugger_," Weiss cursed with equal frustration. "Still, that'll teach them a lesson about crossing me."

For some inexplicable reason, Yang wasn't terribly convinced of that statement.

* * *

6th of September, 1890.

As the Autumn Maiden set sail the following morning, Weiss Schnee found herself in an impromptu meeting with General James Ironwood. Blake was, as usual, taking notes for Weiss's meticulous, immaculate records on her humble notepad. Yang and Ruby were a few metres behind, watching Weiss's back. The four looked a bit haggard, given they'd slept in the Leadbelly the preceding night.

"I have to hand it to you and your assistants, Miss Schnee," he politely thanked. "I'd arranged for that ship to collect a highly unusual Dust sample found within the fjords of Norway."

Weiss stared at him sharply. "Is that so? How come I wasn't told of this?"

Ironwood held his hands outstretched in a defensive stance. "Your father and I are, at present, collaborating on bio-technological experiments for use within automation. The composition of that Dust compound was flagged by the CO of the SDC mine north of Oslo for use in those matters."

At this, Weiss's stare lessened a touch, with her right eyebrow arching slightly; Blake read her paramour like an open book. _She's realised he's being honest_, the Faunus observed, _while still keeping his ultimate goal secret. She'll stiffly accept his story, then she'll cajole me into stalking him fruitlessly for a week_.

"Very well, General," Weiss cordially responded. "I'll leave it at that."

Ironwood nodded politely, and walked swiftly back to his cab. As the vehicle left, Weiss turned her attention to her colleagues, while Blake fished an envelope out of her trouser pocket.

"I'd like to thank you with the utmost sincerity for your assistance, Ruby and Yang," the heir-apparent started as Blake gave Yang the envelope. "You both did your jobs exceptionally well, and I'm very much looking forward to working with you in the future."

Ruby shyly smiled at the praise. "Well, I'm glad to help you, Weiss."

"Same here," Yang replied warmly.

"Speaking of future work," Blake added, "I'd now like to take the opportunity to invite you into a new initiative that myself and Ms. Schnee are starting."

"What did you have in mind?", Yang asked.

"As the two of you now know," the secretary continued, "the pair of us prefer to be more hands-on with dealing with these _matters_, but we can't personally solve every single case we deem to be a cut above our usual heavies and sleuths. Additionally, our strengths lie in infiltration, counter-espionage and intelligence – meaning that our effectiveness in fistfights and shootouts isn't up to standards. Which is why, after some deliberation, the pair of us decided to recruit a small, but well-trained roster of hunters to work for us on an ongoing, yet flexible basis."

"And the pair of you," Weiss interjected, "are our first two candidates. We're looking at giving you forty pounds an hour on the job, access to high-quality medical care in case of serious injury _and _the ability to have my weapon-smith make any upgrades you want to make on your weapons."

Ruby and Yang stood in amazed silence at what they were hearing. To get ongoing work at such a pay-grade was tantamount to receiving a life-long pension. The decision was the easiest either of them ever made.

"We'd be happy to accept!", Yang chirped while shaking Weiss's hand.

"Glad to hear it," Blake responded as Ruby shook her hand enthusiastically.

* * *

**A/N: And there we have it. **

**Last time, I forgot to mention my update schedule for Amaryllis and Aconite. At this rate, I'll be uploading on Friday nights (ACST) weekly until chapter 10. Depending on how much backlog I've got at that point, I'll either take a quick mid-fic break to build it up, or continue as normal until all twenty chapters are out.**


	3. Pride Goes Towards A Fall

Chapter 3 – Pride Goes Towards A Fall

_Soundtrack: Money – Pink Floyd_

6th of September, 1890.

Cinder Fall and Vernal Fausse were _furious _over the botched operation. That much was evident when the latter's submarine returned to the former's private dock at nine-thirty in the morning, instead of the Autumn Maiden. While the red-bedecked siren began to fume, Vernal stormed out of the small mezzanine office within the building, managing to startle Emerald when she slammed the door behind her. Stomping down the stairs as her crew disembarked, she signalled all of them into a meeting room to the right of the loading bay.

"Care to explain why you clowns failed a simple job?!", the French pirate started angrily.

"_I _didn't fail any of my tasks," Vera barked in defiance. "The crew came equipped with knives as ordered, only to come up against Weiss Schnee, three heavies and Dust ammunition. The crew were lucky to escape death or imprisonment that night. I've written up descriptions of her retainers for your perusal; perhaps we could track them down and do something horrible to them."

Vernal's hands were shaking in agitation when they clasped Vera's report. "Very well," she tersely ground out, "I'll deal with Cinder, and you lot are to lay low until further notice."

Vera nodded, and led the eight crewmen to their bunks on the opposite side of the warehouse. Vernal, meanwhile, walked slowly up the stairs while reading the page-length report; Cinder knew her well enough to know that Vernal had a tough sell, and waited patiently while she opened the door.

"What happened?"

"Apparently, Weiss Schnee herself caught wind of our plans. When my crew came to the ship, that little _salope_ was there to defend it with her Dust sword, along with three heavies she'd brought with her."

Cinder _barely _contained the rage she harboured for the heir-apparent and asked something in return. "Well, hitting the _Eiskönigin _will be impossible, but the heavies might be tracked down and made to vanish. Was there anything unusual about them?"

"Apparently, all three of them were women. They was a stealthy type dressed in black, a blonde gunslinger dressed like an American cowboy, and a short auburn-haired girl with an elephant gun/scythe hybrid."

Cinder nodded. "Well, keep your ears on the ground for them. If you find any of these retainers, kidnap them, and use them as leverage against the Schnees."

"You're on," Vernal agreed. "And colour me curious, but how come you know that Weiss Schnee is impossible to kill?"

Cinder's expression went dark. "Because the Creatures of Grimm tried to kill her thrice, and what happened to them? Their headquarters blown to hell, with no survivors."

Vernal paled in response, nodded gingerly and walked out. Cinder turned away from the door, facing the window onto Salter Road as she reflected on the moment that changed her fortunes forever.

* * *

14th of October, 1889

When she led the Creatures of Grimm, Cinder Fall was the balance in the scales atop the organisation. To one side stood the insane criminal Mercury Black, and the criminally insane Emerald Sustrai stood on the other end. Sure, Emerald was a powerful orator who could make the gullible and fanciful believe anything she wished, and Mercury was a competent head-hitter and drill sergeant, but neither party had _vision;_ this was what Cinder viewed as the difference between a rabble of bomb-throwing anarchists, and the burgeoning organisation which would prove to be her instrument of enforcement when she came to dominate the world's Dust trade through sheer caprice.

"You are." "Aware." "Of our price?"

To do this masquerade _every time _they got hired for kills, therefore, flew in the face of her principles_. _What made it _more_ irritating was that the other two only did the theatrics for the hell of it. Three mannequins, neither male nor female, dressed in black with white, animalistic masks glued on the faces. A completely black room, with orange candle-light shaded to make the masks glow in the gloom. The three stood behind a false wall, with Cinder in the middle, Mercury to her left and Emerald on the right.

Each had a microphone that led to grilles above the mannequin heads. The rudimentary amplification that got used led to all three voices sounding deeper and completely different from their owners. It only served to spook the Jewish and Italian gangsters that usually employed them as stealthy assassins. However, it did nothing to frighten the well-bred mangled man in front of them.

"I am."

"Then give." "Us the name." "Of our prey."

Despite Cinder's protest, she and the others had practised their stilted speech incessantly until was perfected in 1885. Cinder took the lead first, Mercury second, and Emerald third. Much to their annoyance however, the man began to chat away.

"You won't need anymore than that. There's no mistaking her for anyone else, any more than you could mistake the Queen."

"The." "Name." "Now."

Silence followed, and Cinder swore that Hyde's eyes widened infinitesimally in fear. To his credit, he held his nerve, and delivered a name that _no-one _saw coming.

"I wish the death of Weiss Schnee."

Cloister bells pealed in Cinder's head as Hyde finished. She _knew _that, if it were anyone else of equal wealth, they would have refused his payment outright. However, Cinder also knew that Emerald would be insane enough to go for it, and Mercury _loved _a challenging target to kill. Combined with Cinder's vendetta against the Schnees, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity. With her greed, vengeance and prejudice overwhelming her judgment, Cinder nodded silently and began the close of transaction, with Mercury dimming the lights.

"Let." "It be." "Done."

"She shall feed." "The hunger of." "The creatures of Grimm!"

* * *

6th of September, 1890.

"Cinder?"

Cinder Fall snapped from her reverie, and turned to face Vera as the clock struck ten. "What's happened?"

"Well, my two informants just arose from sleep. After we told them what happened, both Ayana and David claimed to recognise all three of the retainers."

"Is that right?", Cinder replied with faux gaiety. "Pray, tell me more about our foes."

"If you must," Vera ground out. "The problem with them is that all three are ill-advised targets."

"How so?"

"For starters, the brawler is Yang Xiao Long. Ayana once fought against her in a pit fight, and lost. She's also the one responsible for busting Roman Torchwick last year."

Cinder nodded; she never forgot the image of the dirigible plummeting into the Thames. "She won't go down without a fight, and she'll likely make waves in the process."

"Indeed," Vera replied. "Then there's the stealth fighter; Blake Belladonna. According to official records, she's the companion, secretary and bodyguard to Weiss Schnee – so that renders her out of the question."

"Heard about her already," Cinder begrudgingly admitted. The woman had foiled _three_ assassination attempts, and was consequently _numero duo _on Cinder's kill list. Still, Cinder was no fool, and wouldn't dream of poking the bear while it slept. "What of the scythe wielder?"

"Ruby Rose is her name. She's unmatched with that weapon, and she's busted plenty of crooks, including Warren Burgundy. Although she's likely nothing to worry about if unarmed, she's well connected. Xiao Long is supposedly her half-sister, and therefore would be liable to attack anyone who harms Rose."

Cinder, however, had different ideas. "If that's the case, then have Ayana and David capture Rose, then have the rest of the crew ambush Xiao Long when she plays hero. Schnee will then feel honour-bound to intervene, and we can overwhelm her and Belladonna when they come to rescue their friends."

Vera was visibly impressed. "Very well. I'll order my enforcers to intercept Ms. Rose this evening."

Cinder smiled faintly as Vera exited her office. _Damned useful, that woman. I'm tempted to keep her on after I leave for home_.

* * *

At half-past twelve that afternoon, Ruby and Yang were out at lunch in a private restaurant on their way back home. Said restaurant was located within the heart of London itself, on the southern side of Threadneedle Street. Whilst preferring to dine at home, the sisters elected to do differently on this day because of their newly-found employment, which had just been confirmed at the Schnee Tower. It was an incredible piece of engineering, wedged between Cornhill and Lombard Street at Bank Junction, the nine-way spider's web of streets that marked the true centre of London. Whereas the Snow Castle was essentially an Alpine _schloss _that occupied the southern half of Holland Park, the Schnee Tower was a imposing spire of marble and glass, quite unlike anything else that dotted London's skyline.

Despite the fact that both sisters had been wearing combat clothes prior to entry, they weren't singled out for standing out by the snooty types within. Before they'd entered the restaurant in the first place, Ruby had released a few latches on the inside of her combat skirt, thereby causing folds of fabric to emerge from underneath. The resultant dress ended just above Ruby's ankles, and was a handy idea she'd devised in February to blend into her surroundings a bit better. As for Yang, she carried a jonquil skirt and white shirt-waist in two custom pouches that lay within both sides of her duster jacket; after all, Yang's preference for close-quarters combat ran a higher risk of injury and bruising, so it made sense to have an extra lining of silk protecting most of her vital organs. The fact that silk was capable of stopping bullets in their tracks didn't hurt either. Hiding her jeans within the floor-length skirt and taking off the duster along with her and Ruby's weapons, Yang blended in remarkably well.

After booking a cab to their home at three o'clock and taking their seats at the table, Ruby and Yang quickly ordered a pot of darjeeling and two servings of eggs Benedict.

"I must say," Yang said as the waiter walked to the kitchen, "I'm pleased to finally get some genuine respect from the wealthy. I owe Weiss big time for this one."

"I'm with you there, Yang," Ruby replied. "Working for Weiss in a capacity I can excel in means there's more to my worth than being a mere candidate for a political marriage."

"Not that Dad would ever willingly do that to you," Yang noted. "Still, last week was a doozy, what with my last mission."

"How so?", Ruby replied with some concern.

"I had to go out to Aberdeen as you know," Yang responded, "and I went to the greyhound races on the first night there; the starting gun killed my dog!"

Ruby groaned and piled her face into her hands.

Yang wasn't done. "And when it came to the mission, I had to infiltrate a museum to expose an art thief. When I caught the guy and dragged him out to the foyer, the guards arrested _me_ for assault."

"Christ," Ruby whispered in resignation beneath her hands.

"The flight back wasn't great either," Yang continued. "There was a prostitute with a beehive and -"

"_Yang_," Ruby said firmly.

The half-Chinese brawler stopped mid-monologue.

"What's wrong?"

"You keep this up, and I'll bribe the waiter to pour beer into your hair."

_That _shut Yang up; even after lunch had been served, she remained unusually quiet.

* * *

**A/N: Yes, I was introduced to Rodney Dangerfield when writing this chapter. And yes, I don't regret having Yang channel his style at all.**

**Stay tuned next week for the next chapter, where we run into some old friends.**


	4. Send In The Clowns

Chapter 4 – Send In The Clowns

_Soundtrack: Intruder – Peter Gabriel_

6th of September, 1890.

Once Yang and Ruby disembarked from the cab at half past three, they found themselves at the western edge of Greyhound Road in Hammersmith. At the western edge of Bayonne Park down the road lay a Regency-period manor house that the pair called home – Rose Hall. Yang cantered into the house to change clothes, freshen up her appearance, give Zwei a walk in the park, then take Bumblebee for a ride to Pyrrha's house.

However, Ruby didn't go home; she'd been invited to the archaeologist's house to compare notes on weapon design before that dinner, and consequently moved towards the Baron's Court station purposefully without her scythe. It was quite new, only getting built in 1887, but it still was yet another marvel of London's impeccable transport system.

Taking pride of place next to a bridge that housed Gliddons Road, the station building itself was a wonder of Victorian design. Lime terracotta tiles breathed a unique atmosphere into the interior of the red-bricked structure, and art nouveau lettering was used throughout the building in accordance with the rest of the Underground stations in London. A small tea room _cum _bakery sat to the right of the entrance, while a post office lay on the left, providing convenient service to the commuters that lived in this area.

Upon entering the building, Ruby walked up to one of the four ticket booths that lined the corridor. One pound later, she found herself holding a single trip first-class ticket. Slipping eagerly through the turnstiles, Ruby cantered down the flights of stairs that led to the platforms outside, and made her way to the platform on the northern side. This platform serviced the east-bound District Line, which ferried passengers to either Kensington High Street for changing to the Metropolitan line, or Mansion House station in the heart of London.

The other platform on the southern end was for westward travel, with the District trains ending at either Hounslow, Richmond, or Ealing depending on the service. While the space between the two platforms went unused for now, there was talk of it being used for a proposed line that would start at Hammersmith proper, carve a line through Knightsbridge and Covent Garden, then stretch northward through Piccadilly to Finsbury Park.

A pair of newspaper vendors stood at their posts on both platforms, hawking both the Times and the Manchester Guardian to any commuter who wished to read them on their way to their destinations. And beneath the metal marquee designed to protect passengers from the elements lay the station's unique feature: high-backed, red-painted metal benches with signs bearing the station's name running along the top. Ruby calmly sat down with the Guardian and idly flicked through it, clearly waiting for the train that would ferry her to the woman she considered a friend, role model and personal hero rolled into one.

Six minutes later, the train arrived at the northern platform, and Ruby jumped onto it. Given her enthusiasm for engineering, Ruby always loved riding on the behemoths that functioned as the blood cells that flowed through the veins of Inner London. As the train began to move, she began to lose herself in the knowledge she harboured about what Londoners frequently called "the Tube". The trains worked by the use of magnetic levitation, a technology invented in 1881 that was subsequently reserved for use on the Underground due to the prohibitive cost. It utilised verdant Dust for power and cobalt Dust for the propulsion, allowing for unusually speedy services to and from London's core. The London Underground was thusly the hidden jewel of the city, a testament both to English industry and the Dust innovation of the Schnees.

What Ruby didn't notice in her technological reverie were the two men who'd just spotted her as they boarded the second-class carriage at Earl's Court station. Scarlet David and Sage Ayana, dressed like workmen for a construction firm that Junior Xiong arranged for them as a cover job, were on their way to see the information broker to search for more information when the Samoan noticed the mark through the windows.

"Spotted Little Red Riding Hood on the toff-class carriage," Sage whispered into Scarlet's left ear.

"Good going," the Oxfordshire native replied at equal volume. "Keep your eyes peeled for her departure."

Sure enough, Sage caught Ruby's cape fluttering off the train when it stopped at Kensington High Street station.

"That's our cue, mate!", Sage urged, striding off the train with Scarlet at his heels.

* * *

Once they caught onto Ruby, they strove to match her speed, which wasn't difficult at all. The true difficulty in following someone lay in remaining above suspicion to the average on-looker. Sage and Scarlet had long since mastered that skill, by the use of banter and one-upmanship that was characteristic of so many friendships between a pair of men.

When she made it out of the station, Ruby crossed Kensington High Street, then went up Hornton Road's eastern side. Ten doors down from the corner, and opposite the Kensington Central Library, lay the townhouse of Dr. Pyrrha Nikos, which was set to also become home to Chief Inspector Jaune Arc two months from now. However, Ruby had only gone two houses down when she was tapped on the shoulder.

"Excuse me, miss," Scarlet spoke up.

"What is it, sir?", Ruby replied after turning around.

"Me and my friend are looking for the Windsor Castle pub, where we're meant to be meeting up with some friends. Can you help us by writing down the address for us?"

Ruby smiled chipperly. "Sure thing sir; I'll just fetch a pen and some paper."

She looked down to her left hip as she reached for the note-pad and pencil that rested in that pocket, then yelped as Scarlet took advantage of her distraction by tackling her to the ground and wrestling her towards the underground station she'd just emerged from.

"Sage," he said, "don't stand there like a sack of crap; bind and gag her already, will you?"

Sage, however, had spotted someone moving towards Scarlet from behind at speed. This someone had gained a fearsome reputation amongst the underworld, and the Samoan's resultant exclamation was one that signalled blood-curdling fright to those in the know, and sheer surprise to those that weren't.

"_**BLOODY NORA!**_"

Scarlet turned in panic, and copped a massive blow to the face. As he slumped to the ground, Ruby saw her saviour surge forward and break Sage's leg with one swing of a very familiar hammer.

"Nora! Good to see you again!"

Nora Valkyrie turned and smiled upon seeing her friend alive and well.

"Well, I'm glad to help a fellow huntress in need."

"Vernal will have our heads for this," Scarlet muttered through broken teeth.

"Assuming the police won't take your heads for target practice," Ruby teased as she and Nora cuffed the pair of them to a lamp-post. While "Bloody Nora" stood guard with Magnhild in grenade launcher form, Ruby ran ahead to Pyrrha's house and pounded on the door. Opening it while slightly short of breath was her butler, Lie Ren.

"Hello, Ruby," he started calmly.

"Hey Ren," Ruby replied quickly. "There were a couple of men working for someone called Vernal who tried to abduct me just now."

Ren's eyes bulged in palpable alarm. "Are they dealt with?"

Ruby nodded in response. "Nora saw to them."

"Great," Ren grimaced, knowing how reckless Nora could be with her weapons. "That's another assault charge Jaune will try to negate for her. Speaking of, may I ring Jaune and get him and his men to arrest the swines out there?"

"Absolutely, Ren. I'll just relax in the billiards room in the meantime."

Ren smiled calmly. "Fair enough; Pyrrha did say you and your sister were joining us for dinner tonight."

As Ren ran towards the phone on the parlour wall, Ruby removed her cloak and sat down to reflect on what had happened. _I should make a note_, she realised, _and tell Weiss about this "Vernal" and what she did – it might have something to do with the case_. Retrieving her pencil and notepad, Ruby jotted down the story for Weiss to peruse. _I'll show it to her tomorrow_, Ruby resolved as Ren placed the phone down and walked outside to relieve Nora of her watch with Stormflower in both hands. Barely a minute later, Nora came in and placed Magnhild next to the umbrella stand.

"Care to play pool with me, Nora?"

Nora turned to face Ruby with a manic grin on her features.

"I hope you can afford to lose to the Galway Bay champion of 1883, Ruby. Prepare to be crushed!"

Despite her slighter frame, Ruby won all three games. Nora didn't take the losses well, as Ren discovered when his nadgers nearly got skewered by a thrown pool cue.

* * *

By six that evening, Pyrrha and Jaune had returned from work, and they were seated with their friends while Ren readied chicken parmigana with mashed potatoes, assorted vegetables and lemonade. Ruby had booked a cab for half past ten that night for herself and Nora, who still lived in a bungalow near Barons Court Station, and Jaune had taken statements from the pair about their assailants. As dinner had just been laid out on the table, the roar of an unearthly beast rattled the windows of the townhouse, before coming to a stop outside the parlour window.

"That'll be Yang," Ruby explained to a bemused Pyrrha as Ren went to open the door. "She prefers her motorcycle over public transport these days. While it does save money she'd otherwise have spent on cab fares and train tickets, and it helps us on "hard and fast" missions when I ride pillion on it, that machine's still rather ear-splitting to experience within earshot."

"Tell _me _about it," Jaune ruefully agreed. "The Yard bought a sizeable number of those things for quick-response situations back in January. They _are_ pretty useful, but I had to ride pillion on one of those things recently for a bomb scare in Battersea; I don't think my spine can take more punishment like that."

"Then ask Pyrrha to stop using her whip as a sex toy, then!"

Pyrrha and Ruby both spat out their drinks, whilst Jaune and Ren looked aghast and Nora _bellowed _with laughter at Yang's ribald joke as she sauntered into the room. Knowing that none of them could verbally chasten Yang without upsetting Nora, Pyrrha gritted her teeth and stood up to greet her.

"I shouldn't expect any less a risque greeting from you, Yang," she remarked all too pleasantly while she locked Yang's hand in a vice grip. To Yang's credit, she didn't flinch; however, she was taken aback by Pyrrha's strength.

"You know me well, Pyrrha," the brawler replied, before turning to Ruby with concern etched on her features. "What's this news I hear about you getting jumped by some pirates?"

"Well," Ruby replied as Yang sat down, "I got asked to write an address down for some pub nearby, then got tackled as I fetched my pen. Thankfully, Nora saved me with her hammer."

"Apparently," the Irish lass continued, "they were working for some woman called Vernal."

"That reminds me," Ruby realised. "Ren, you know something about her?"

The butler nodded. "The only woman I've heard about with that name is the pirate captain called Vernal Fausse."

Pyrrha looked quizzically at her butler. "Pirate captain? In _this _day and age? She's either absolutely harmless or extremely secretive, because we _all_ know that pirates died out with the advances in Dust propulsion."

"She's neither, really," Ren replied.

Everyone else at the table exchanged uncertain glances, suddenly getting a sense of just how deep this rabbit hole extended. Finally, Jaune spoke up.

"How do you know of her, then, if she's managed to become unknown to the public?"

"It's actually quite an infamous story, whispered throughout the underworld," Ren recounted. "I only know of it because my old boss told me about it once when he'd taken a hit of opium. But it starts with a young woman who grew up poor in the streets of Paris. Her name was Safran LeVeus, but it became Vernal Fausse."

* * *

**A/N: I've got to thank Top Gear for introducing me to the uniquely British phrase "Bloody Nora". Without it, Nora's introduction here wouldn't have been half as funny.**

**Stay tuned for a flashback next Friday; feel free to leave a review and favourite the work!**


	5. Preparing The Spring Trap

Chapter 5 – Preparing The Spring Trap

_Soundtrack: Your Own Special Way – Genesis_

14th of February, 1881.

By the age of twenty-three, Safran LeVeus had it made. She'd escaped poverty due to two things; her undying hatred for the aristocracy and her beautiful brown tresses of hair. The latter enabled her to rob the former of their riches by stealing a lady-in-waiting's dress, and advertising herself as the most skilled courtesan within Paris. And before long, dozens of noblemen, gentry and minor royals had fallen over themselves (and each other's swords at times) for the chance of bedding her. As a result, Safran had amassed a small fortune by the start of 1881.

But on Valentine's Day that year, things were different. Safran was walking towards the Eiffel Tower's restaurant when she was dragged off the street by two men wearing Schnee Dust Company uniforms. They took her into a back alley brothel, where the manager of the SDC's docklands warehouse in Calais was waiting. Four hours later, Safran had been shaved, defiled and beaten, and was flung out into the cold and wet streets of Paris. And that night, as she gathered her belongings, the young Parisian vowed revenge.

18th of February, 1881.

On a bitterly cold evening at the Calais docksides, a motley group of Schnee Dust Company workers were adjourning to a pub near Fort Risban, after a day of hard slog at the SDC warehouse that sat opposite the Calais-Dover ferry. All of these workers were either petty thieves who'd been caught by the SDC or convicts already, and they'd been compelled to work for the SDC in exchange for their freedom. The 18th marked the last day they were forced to scrub the hulls of trading vessels and perform manual labour that was deemed too dangerous for honest men to perform.

As they entered the dingy pub, however, they noticed straight away that it was unusually quiet. Only one person was in the bar at that point; Safran LeVeus. By some miracle, she'd spotted a young woman preparing to work in the pub as a bartender earlier that day, and promptly impersonated the girl after knocking her unconscious and pinching her brown dress.

"Greetings, everyone," she called out sultrily in English. "What can I get you all?"

"Just eight pints of your best," replied the leader of the group in the same language, who looked Italian.

"As you wish," Safran replied. As the workers sat down at their regular table on the far wall overlooking the sea, she set to work on the beers, having learned how to get the perfect head on it after attending numerous pubs and bistros for her various trysts over the years. But as she fitted the glasses onto the tray and began to walk over, she began to hear a conversation that would irretrievably change her life forever.

"As I was saying," the Italian replied, "the dry dock's secret project ship got finished today. I was asked to make sure none of the portholes were loose."

"What sort of monstrosity were they building in there?", asked an African-American.

"A craft designed to travel underwater – a submarine, the boss called it. It's meant to go on shakedown to New York tomorrow."

This was a goldmine for the woman who came to the table. After putting the drinks down, she started.

"You fellows work at the SDC, instead of serving sentences, I take it?"

"Damned right we are," an Irishwoman in blue replied. "We were given jobs that were too dangerous for the regular men, and we've just finished our sentences today."

The woman smiled nastily. "Well, that's good to hear. I've got an axe to grind against your boss at the warehouse. He ravaged me last week, and I now know exactly how to get back at the bastard. If any of you want to help me break into the warehouse when it gets dark, tell me now and I'll split my rewards with you all to get back against the Schnee swines."

There was no deliberation on the part of the gang.

* * *

At eleven-thirty that night, Nadir Shiko and Arslan Altan distracted the night guard, by the Egyptian showing off her toned legs while the Persian snuck up behind him and clobbered him over the head. Fishing out the keys, the two made their way to the worker's entrance, where the rest of the newly-minted crew were lying in wait.

Upon entering the building and locking the doors behind them, they scoured the normal warehouse for Dust, money and other supplies, moving them into a pile by the door to the private hangar. Brawnz Ni and Reese Chloris took the keys and opened said door after they were done, leading Vernal into a room that housed the project they'd been introduced to. It resembled an artillery round, made of case-hardened steel over an iron frame, but with triple-glazed windows for portholes and viewing windows.

There were eight missile ports that fired rounds laced with a mixture of indigo and sienna Dust, covered with a layer of crimson beneath a layer of azure. The resultant blasts would travel near the speed of sound beneath the waves, and effectively obliterate the keel of any ship that dared assail the vessel. It was one of a kind, with the blueprints still inside the vessel to be shipped to New York for mass fabrication; this would be the last time any employee of the Schnees would _ever _make that mistake.

"There she is," the Chinese man started. "The world's first ever double-hull submarine. The company already loaded the compressed batteries with crimson and verdant Dust, and they've loaded enough spares to last five years at sea."

"Using it will be fairly easy too," the Irish lass added. "Not least since the controls are like those on common steam ships, with the elevation and submersion levers as the sole difference."

"You worked on steam ships, I take it?", Vernal asked.

"Aye, until I had an affair with the captain of my last ship and got jailed for it."

Vernal looked perplexed. "I didn't realise adultery was still a punishable offence in the courts."

"It isn't," Reese replied. "Sleeping with a woman, however, still is."

"... Right," Vernal eventually replied. "That's fine by me, for what it's worth; I just wasn't expecting that answer. Still, you'll be our helmsman. And Brawnz," she added, "get the stuff loaded within the submarine with the others. I'll see if there's anything we've missed."

"On it," the Hong Kong native replied.

Nearly an hour later, the submarine was loaded, and Vernal had relieved the warehouse offices of around ten thousand Francs before boarding the vessel. Additionally, the last sweep of the stock rooms unveiled a cache of Dust rounds and guns, along with several swords and two axes. These were bundled in along with the money and remaining supplies and tools.

* * *

As the high tide began to come in, Reese sat on the right of the bridge, where the controls lay ready for use. Brawnz, having studied naval charts as a hobby, was at the navigator's post on the left, keeping an eye on the rudimentary radar system that was unique to this vessel.

The Italian man, called Nolan, was the lone mechanic of the group and consequently sat at the aft near the gantry of Dust batteries. An African-American called Roy and a Cantonese woman called May were respectively at the fore and aft weapons stations, either side of the helm. As for Arslan, Bolin and Nadir, they were releasing the ship from it's moorings, and had found a rowing boat to use for meeting with the submarine. Arslan had agreed to be the ship's cook, while the lone Thai man and the Persian volunteered to assist Nolan as technicians.

But at the centre of it all sat Vernal Fausse, whose new life as a pirate captain was ready to roar as the submarine hit the waves. Reese dropped anchor while the three remaining crewmen boarded the vessel, then pulled it up and got moving. The following morning, the overseer that had wronged Vernal was fired and blackballed by the SDC, and the career of the Fausse pirate crew started, manning a ship that they dubbed _The_ _Typhon_.

After establishing a base within Blackgang Chine upon the Isle of Wight's southern face, the Fausse crew settled into a life of raiding SDC ships throughout the English channel. No matter how the company attempted to root out the pirates, they always got away with whatever they set their hearts on. After a while, though, they began to yearn for more lucrative scores to hit.

It was at this point in the story that an enigmatic burglar called Vera Brennan joined the crew in 1885. She was a trained fencer whose ancestry had never strayed from Limerick or Glamorgan, and she had a tip-off for young Vernal about Dust-driven mining tools, charges and rounds that were being shipped to California via New York to aid in the gold-mining trade.

Vera's expertise at raiding property proved crucial to the Typhon crew, who followed her lead to New York's harbour and burgled the SDC's warehouse at Red Hook. The resultant windfall for the crew of the Typhon was enough to fortify the base they called home and retire from public view for four years, while their actions resulted in severely stymieing the SDC's expansion into the American West. For her actions, Vera was appointed as first mate on the Typhon, and was invaluable to the crew whenever they needed to scrounge for more supplies or funds. They lived lives of plenty from then on …

"Until now," Ren finished to a stunned audience. "They've thrown their lot in with an enemy of the Schnees, and goodness knows what they've got planned."

"At least their two main informants have been caught," Jaune responded. "Misters David and Ayana both confirmed that they stumbled upon the Blackgang Chine base towards the end of 1888, after dropping anchor at the wrong inlet. After that happened, they got cajoled into joining Vernal's crew as informants and thieves on the land. However, the whole crew got hired on earlier this year by a contact that hid her own identity. When pressed further, they refused to sell out where they were hiding, so that's a shame we can't bust the rest of the fiends."

"Still," Ruby pointed out, "we've managed to rob a pirate crew of two of their informants. That's better than nothing, right?"

"Absolutely," Nora affirmed.

* * *

At that precise moment, Mercury Black returned to the warehouse along Rotherhithe Street that Cinder used as a base of operations, with a big smile plastered on his features. Noting the silence of the place, his expression didn't change as he ascended the stairs that led to the mezzanine office.

"Good news, everyone!", he cried out.

"Pray tell, Mercury," Cinder responded evenly, while Emerald and Vernal craned their heads towards him.

"In two days time, at six o'clock in t' evening, the Spring Maiden is returning to t' South Greenland dock! You said we'd need a Maiden vessel for your plan to work, so why not go for it?"

The four women in the room looked at each other with some surprise. Mercury coming up with an idea wasn't a normal occurrence, after all – let alone producing a good one.

"Well," Emerald started cautiously, "if we're careful about it, we could slip onto the thing without much trouble."

"That didn't work last time, Emerald," Cinder gently admonished. "We'll need to be more overt about it to compensate for the tougher security."

"Perhaps we could … _accelerate_ your showpiece?", Vernal suggested. "You could use it to secure the dockside, where me and the crew will be waiting to seize the ship, then speed off down the Thames with it."

Cinder tapped her chin while looking upwards, feigning deliberation for the sake of formality. "That's a decent plan, Vernal. Your crew will need to be better armed than last time, but it could work."

"Speaking of which," Mercury asked, "where t' bloody hell _are_ your crewmen?"

"Well that's just it," Vernal said testily. "Sage and Scarlet got arrested by "Bloody Nora" while trying to take Ruby Rose, and the rest of the crew took it personally and decided to get revenge."

"And I thought you swore to keep your crew on a tight leash," Cinder replied smugly. "Did that slip your mind at all, Vernal?"

"_How_ could I _forget_ it?!", Vernal said in exasperation. "You abducted me back in April and beguiled me into allying with you!"

"Enough arguing already," Vera said urgently. "Let's get started with the planning."

And so the five of them began to plan their course of action, their contingency plans, as well as itemise the weapons and supplies to load onto the boat once they captured it. They got so engrossed in the planning, in fact, that none of them noticed the loosening of soot into the unused fireplace, along with the faint breaths of the svelte _chimney sweep_ who'd followed Mercury there.

* * *

**A/N: I'll admit that I had reservations about having Vernal and the pirates all speak English, but I imagined that the SDC's global prisoner-labour scheme would've resulted in English becoming a _lingua franca _amongst the prisoners.**

**And yes, the title's a nod to FNAF.**

**Feel free to favourite the work, leave a review, and stay tuned for chapter 6 next week!**


	6. The Carpet Scrawlers

Chapter 6 – The Carpet Scrawlers

_Soundtrack: The Carpet Crawlers – Genesis_

6th of September, 1890.

Dinner proved to be an immensely satisfying affair. Ren's talent for cooking surpassed that of anyone else at the table; given that Nora and Yang had long since sworn off the idea of being housewives, and both Pyrrha and Ruby had the pedigree to avoid that, this wasn't surprising. Dessert was nothing to sneeze at too – except for Jaune, who had a faint allergy to _honey ice cream_ of all things.

After dinner was finished, Ren began to wash the dishes while Nora eagerly suggested a game of Chinese poker.

"I'll take score, if that's alright with you," Ruby volunteered. "I haven't got much of a poker face, so I'd be at a disadvantage."

"That's perfectly fine, Ruby," Pyrrha replied calmly. "Jaune and Yang, are you two in for this?"

"Of course, my cherry," Jaune said romantically, with his usual naivete at foreign languages completely undermining his attempt at speaking French. All the same, his words caused Pyrrha to blush _furiously_, and Yang and Nora exchanged knowing smirks in response.

"That sounds _just fine_ to me, Pyrrha," Yang replied, after regaining her composure.

Pyrrha glared very faintly at Yang out of the corner of her eye while the blonde brawler dealt the cards that Nora had brought for tonight's proceedings. The quartet each received a pile of thirteen cards, and had to compose three hands: a three-card hand that was played first, and a pair of five-card hands – the weaker of which was played after the three-card hand, but before the stronger five-card hand. The players would rotate the dealership after each round, with points scored against the dealer each and every time. The point-scoring system was an alternative for people not inclined to wager money on a mere card game, which suited those present at the Nikos townhouse on Hornton Road very well.

Yang, being a somewhat experienced card player, had the best poker face of the four, and was therefore able to mask her sheer glee at the hand she'd dealt herself. Thinking patiently, she first assembled a full hand from every four except for the clubs, along with the threes of diamonds and hearts. Next, she used the kings of diamonds and clubs along with the aces of hearts and spades as her middle hand, and placed the queen of hearts in the front hand as a high-card while splitting her burn cards up – the seven and five of clubs in the front hand, and the six of diamonds in the middle. Yang routinely had close calls and losses with her approach to the game, but she preferred to lull her opponents into a false sense of confidence by showing a weak front hand, then crushing their dreams with a strong back hand.

Before long, the others had their hands ready to play.

"Queen high," Yang started as she threw the trio of cards down, face up.

Nora beamed maniacally. "A pair of tens!", she cried, throwing down the tens of hearts and diamonds with the king of hearts as a kicker.

"A pair of queens," Jaune purred, throwing down the queens of clubs and spades, along with burning the two of hearts.

Pyrrha smiled viciously. "Queen high, but I still win!"

Yang scowled slightly as Pyrrha threw the queen and seven of diamonds down first, followed by the eight of hearts.

"_Okay_, then," the brawler ground out, "kings and aces!"

Nora scowled. "Pair," was her lone reply as the aces of diamonds and clubs fell onto the table.

"Eights and sixes," Jaune bristled as he placed the eights of diamonds and clubs and the sixes of hearts and spades down.

Pyrrha offered no reply, simply placing the nines and twos of diamonds and clubs onto the playing surface. Yang grinned viciously as her back hand was revealed.

"Full hand!"

"_Begorrah_," Nora groaned, throwing down the nines and sevens of hearts and spades.

"I've got a _bigger _full hand," Jaune beamed, throwing down every jack except that of hearts, along with the fives of hearts and spades.

"Oh _bugger_," Pyrrha cursed, throwing down a king-high flush of spades.

"So that's five so far to Yang," Ruby noted, "two to Jaune, and one to Nora and Pyrrha."

"Thanks, sis," Yang replied as she gathered up the cards and handed them to Nora. "Your turn!"

* * *

While Pyrrha continued to play cards with her fiance and their friends, the museum she worked at was set to be burgled. At the stroke of ten that night, the burglars in question emerged silently on the western edge of the Regent's Park from a stolen Black Maria, and began to creep towards the inexorable pull of their prize.

Exham Museum's latest exhibition featured a selection of pieces-of-eight, gold treasures and the like, all found buried in County Wicklow earlier that year by Pyrrha and her colleagues. The public turned up in droves to see the find for months now, and this new-found popularity led Exham to become an even bigger rival to the British Museum. Unfortunately, the curator's meal ticket was about to get stolen by eight pirates in need of unleashing their avarice; the allure of golden pirate relics was too much for the Fausse crew to ignore.

All eight of their number were dressed in inexpensive, yet clean black garb. Only the presence of duffel bags and grappling hooks within the bags gave any hint towards their mission. Fortunately for them, there wasn't a soul around the park as they approached the main building from the southern side. Furthering the odds in the pirate's favour was the lack of breeze and cloud cover, which wouldn't hinder their entrance into the museum through the roof.

Brawnz and Reese, leading the pack, brought their cohorts to the southern wall of the museum. There were only two doorways into the museum – the main entrance out front, which was locked four times over, and the staff entrance, which was secluded down an alleyway that was walled off to prevent unwanted access to the London Zoo. The presence of iron grilles welded over each and every windowpane prohibited the casual burglar from getting in, and the roof was more secure with triple-glazed glass replacing the single-glazed panes that Tyrian Callows broke in his robbery the previous year, along with spikes dotting the perimeter.

Undeterred, Arslan, Bolin, Roy and May retrieved their hooks and flung them onto the roof before pulling the cables taut. By sheer luck, Roy's hook lodged into the top of the spikes, giving them a clean route through to the museum.

"Okay," Brawnz stage-whispered to his cohorts, "Reese and I will stay here to ward off any suspicion. Roy, I'd guess there's a door on the roof for escaping fires, so I'll have you bust it open and lower the takings down to us. The rest of you go inside and take _only _the golden pirate relics; their weapons and charts will be useless in this day and age. Get moving, and stay silent until we leave."

Roy and the others abseiled up the rope with commendable rapidity, ascending to the roof within the space of a minute. Once up there, Brawnz's suspicions were confirmed with the use of a trap door that led to the hallway with a sliding ladder. Fortunately for the pirates, there was no klaxon to be heard as the door was opened and the ladder fell down. Arslan was the first inside, with May hot on her heels. After a false start, Nolan stumbled into the hallway next, followed by Nadir, then Bolin brought up the rear. Nadir doled out four hammers and crowbars from a simple trash bag he carried with him, keeping one of each for himself. From there, nothing would stop the pirates in their looting.

Roy peered over the edge and nodded at Brawnz and Reese, who returned the nod and removed their masks as Roy crouched below the line of sight. Reese was the only one of the pirates wearing a dress, and Brawnz simply removed his black trenchcoat to reveal a white dress shirt and a thin black jacket. All Reese had to do was contain her blonde tresses within a hat, and she and Brawnz were a respectable couple enjoying a romantic spot of star-gazing in the park to any onlookers who could've passed the museum. However, the idyllic conditions for the robbery wouldn't last.

The exhibition itself was separated into two parts; the upstairs corridor next to the pirates' entryway led to a pair of rooms that housed the weaponry and a few of the smaller pieces of eight, while the main foyer played host to the star charts and the largest pieces-of-eight. Bolin and Arslan promptly went to the rooms on the upstairs, while Nolan decided to wait by the ladder to hand their spoils up to Roy on the outside. Nadir and May, meanwhile, decided to skulk down the main staircase, which ended just before the display case that harboured the pieces.

However, the minute Nadir stepped onto the landing, an alarm rang throughout the building. For Pyrrha, not wanting to experience another break in, had persuaded her employers to install time-dependent alarm systems, activated by pressure-plates at key access points on the ground floor, as a means of alerting onlookers to the crime. The resultant alarm was deafeningly loud, and May stumbled to the case and smashed it with her hammer, grabbing as many golden items as she could before Nadir dragged her up the stairs again. But not before Nadir drew Cinder's sigil in charcoal on the carpet he'd trodden on.

Bolin and Arslan had just finished their work when the noise sounded, and quickly ran for the ladder with the bags. Nolan sped up the ladder, and proceeded to get the bags up first so Roy could send them down sooner. Afterwards, Arslan and Bolin both slid down to the ground with the use of a pair of iron handlebars forged specifically for quick descent on ropes. As Brawnz ran to start up the van, Reese handed Arslan the discarded clothes before the latter sped off with Bolin towards the western edge of the park. No sooner had this happened than the alarms ceased to sound.

As this happened, May and Nadir threw their bags up onto the roof, before clambering up. Nolan then slid the bags down the rope, before the remaining four pirates used their handlebars to slide to the ground. Once down, Roy threw the rest of the rope onto the roof, rather than risk capture trying to retrieve the hook, and the five remaining pirates ran at full speed towards the west. As they slipped past the Winfield House Gardens, an elderly Spanish woman stirred from her sleep on a park bench that the pirates had missed, in their haste to escape. Though cataracts had dulled her vision, she still saw five darkly-dressed figures heading westward at speed, towards a large Black Maria.

"_Dios mio_," she grumbled as the pilfered police vehicle sped off, then went back to sleep. She knew full well that the police would be here at some point in the next twelve hours to move her on, and she'd be ready to tell them what she'd heard and seen.

* * *

As the Black Maria moved towards London Bridge, a hansom cab showed up outside Pyrrha's townhouse. Ren was quietly playing piano, to soothe three bruised female egos after _Jaune _of all people managed to beat them at cards after sixteen rounds.

"Ruby," Nora called out, "your cab has just arrived."

"Well, I may as well call it a night," Ruby said resignedly.

"I'll turn in as well," Yang admitted. "Good night everyone!"

"Good night, you two!", their friends beamed as the two sisters walked outside.

At the Snow Castle, meanwhile, Blake was suiting up for an important mission in her room on the second floor. Weiss had directed her to seek information on Cinder's whereabouts immediately after the failed attack, given their lack of success with their own private eyes when tracing her soldiers. As the acknowledged expert on sleuthing within the ranks of Weiss's section of the company, Blake naturally had informants dotted all over Greater London, and other contacts within Cardiff, Sheffield and Edinburgh. Fortunately, the one she was going to lay on the southern edge of the Thames, near the Rotherhithe docks; it was a mission she could handle in one night.

With her black denim trousers and leather boots already on, Blake threw on a white undershirt, followed by a purple dress shirt and her black leather jacket – which housed her knives and holdout pistol. Blake had deemed these armaments more than sufficient for the area she was travelling to, and therefore forewent the use of Gambol Shroud for the job. The jacket and shirt also hid the plethora of injection spots that had gone unused for the last four months – due to Dr. Edgar Heywood inventing a vaccine that prevented the onset of what he'd dubbed the "Faunus Frenzy". So long as she avoided alcohol and meditated for an hour each week for the remainder of her years, Blake's mind would never degrade to a reptilian state.

She only took up the offer after seeing Adam, Drage and the other first-generation Faunus successfully overcome the Faunus Frenzy, and conveniently timed it to coincide with the release of the subdermal insulin pump from one of the many SDC subdivisions – after all, she claimed to have Type 1 diabetes to Johannes when he'd spotted the injection sites on her arms, and pretended to have the procedure done to assuage concerns for her health.

Affixing her bow firmly onto her head, then donning a custom-designed helmet that wouldn't crush her ears, Blake took the lift down three floors to the private garage. Once there, she saw the fleet of white motor cars that the family possessed, including a newer model that Weiss had been learning to drive herself should the need arise. Blake, however, had something else in mind entirely. Something exquisite and Dust-riddled like the others, but different enough to make it a unique feature of the Snow Castle garage.

Something edgier, louder, and better at purring than Blake ever had been.

* * *

**A/N: There we have it. This variant of Chinese poker (which my father referred to as "Russian poker" for some reason) is quite a fun game to play in real life; I can't recommend it enough if you're stuck for entertainment during a power outage.**

**Next chapter will pick up straight after the conclusion to this one, so stay tuned for it next Friday! Feel free to favourite, follow and/or review the work.**


	7. Rest and Reconnaissance

Chapter 7 – Rest and Reconnaissance

_Soundtrack: Private Investigations – Dire Straits_

By eleven that night, Blake was nearing the Bank Junction on Cheapside at around twenty miles per hour. Her speedy approach was only made possible by Ninja, her top-of-the-line SDC motorcycle. It was a beautiful vehicle, featuring a diamond-plate steel chassis and a case-hardened steel exterior which had been painted a luxurious and deep shade of violet, with black accents as per Blake's tastes. Whilst it was quite loud, Blake's helmet had special sockets that muffled her highly-sensitive pantherine ears, and her human ears were similarly guarded from the noise. However, the true reason that Blake opted to drive a motorcycle was its environmentally sound propulsion system.

A single verdant Dust battery powered the pair of electric motors, and it was constantly recharged by a pair of miniature golden Dust turbines as the motorcycle moved. These turbines lay in a pair of steel tubes that were welded onto the chassis between the wheels, either side of the extra large seat that could fit two people comfortably. Additionally, an extra set of handlebars could pop up in the middle of said seat with the touch of a button on the right handlebar. The left handlebar also had a button, which turned on the large radiant that sat above the front wheel.

The Bank Junction was quiet as Blake reached it at speed. The Schnee Tower, a place she'd never quite brought herself to like, was like a mountain wreathed in autumnal mist amongst the silent gloom of London's heart. Whilst other locales of vital importance to the country played host to drunkards staggering home and cabs ferrying the well-heeled home from the theater and opera, Bank Junction was more silent than a morgue, strangely enough. Facing no traffic, Blake easily weaved through the junction into King William Street, which led the motorcycle south-east until it reached London Bridge itself.

As the enlightened foil to Weiss's rampant romanticism, Blake never had a mind for the mundane things in life that lifted Weiss's spirits, like the sight of a clear sun-lit sky or a light mist shrouding a forest in mystery. However, Blake found herself admiring the reflection of the clear, star-glazed night sky that the Thames provided as she crossed it. She purposefully slowed down to appreciate the view, and lamented the fact that kodaks lacked the right amount of exposure to truly capture such a bewitching nocturnal vista. After making it to the other side, Blake peeled left onto Tooley Street and gunned it, not stopping until she found her informant's location.

Tying her bike to a lamppost with a padlocked chain, Blake slipped into an alleyway that led towards the Thames. Soon enough, she found herself at the Charlotte's Web pub in Southwark, within spitting distance of Tower Bridge. Blake readied about two hundred pounds in her right hand, keeping her left within the pocket that housed her pistol, and approached the building's front entrance.

"Can the black wolf howl?", a voice called from behind the door.

"Only when the white moon whistles," Blake replied clearly.

The door opened, and the doorman nodded upon recognising Blake. She was a regular here, after all, and the boss never liked turning away any repeat customers through behaving unfamiliarly to them. Blake walked inside, and handed the doorman the money.

"Send for the queen of spiders, if you please, Roderick."

"As you wish, Miss Nightshade," the Bermondsey native replied, and scurried up the stairs near the door while another man filled in for him and Blake entered the pub.

To ordinary customers, the Charlotte's Web was just another pub on the southern side of the Thames frequented by the wharfies, teamsters and prostitutes, though a well-maintained one. However, if one knew the codewords and had the necessary fee, the Charlotte's Web was a veritable wellspring of information, freely available to criminals and private detectives alike.

Blake had been inducted into the secret society at the Web by one of the sleuths within the SDC's security forces. She had constructed an alias for safety in dealing with the spiders and their rats; to them, Blanche Nightshade was a private dick who attacked the worst of the worst.

Selecting one of three red-curtained booths, Blake slid into a seat and drew the curtains. Given that the staff always reserved them for _clientele_, Blake had no need to worry about being accosted by staggering drunks or the like. Drumming her fingers lightly on the spruce table, Blake quickly took off her helmet and affixed a bow over her extra ears.

* * *

After two minutes of waiting, a rotund blonde woman in her early forties and a lavender dress slid into the opposite seat.

"Little Miss Malachite," Blake greeted, extending a hand to the broker.

"Blanche Nightshade," replied Charlotte Malachite with a smile. "What brings you to my pub tonight?", the Cockney woman added.

Blake picked up a piece of paper which had a pair of kodaks glued onto it.

"I'm looking for these two people – Emerald Sustrai and Mercury Black. They're planning to steal some private property that I've been hired to protect."

Malachite's left eyebrow cranked up like a drawbridge. "Is that so? Well, I can check with my people and see if they've spotted either of these rogues skulking around this side of the Thames. I'll be a few minutes, if you don't mind?"

"Not at all," Blake replied neutrally as Malachite walked out and upstairs with the kodaks in hand.

Contrary to her expectation, Blake didn't have to wait long, as Malachite suddenly re-emerged into the booth half a minute later.

"You're in luck! Well, sort of."

"How so?", Blake enquired calmly.

"While no-one upstairs saw the woman, one of my best spotted Mercury Black talking to some black-haired tart in a red dress down an alleyway near here about four hours ago. Apparently, they're planning to steal a fancy Schnee ship in two days time at six in the evening, at the South Greenland docks."

Cloister bells pealed in Blake's mind, though her poker face was stronger than her emotions. _Shit_, she groused, _Weiss will __**not**__ like this_.

"Did your man say anything about where they're headed?"

"Word is, he last saw them walking down Salter Road in Rotherhithe, before he got his view blocked by a delivery cart and lost sight of the two. Whether they actually _have _a place there or not is uncertain, but I'd suggest you go on look-out there as soon as you can."

Blake nodded, and rose from her seat. "Thanks again, Little Miss Malachite."

"Happy to help you," the broker replied as she shook Blake's hand. "I hope I'll see you again soon, Blanche."

Blake nodded with a slight smile, and walked outside at speed with the paper in hand. She mounted her motorcycle, and floored it to start her pilgrimage to the Snow Castle. Meanwhile, the man who'd spied on Mercury went up to Miss Malachite with some uncertainty.

"Are you sure we shouldn't have told Miss Nightshade the true story?", he asked tremulously.

"_Positive_," the supergrass replied. "We all know that someone's in on the whole piracy shebang already. This just enables me to enjoy the sight of three powerful forces crashing into one another."

"As you wish, ma'am," the spy concluded, before walking upstairs to fetch his supper. _After all_, Malachite reasoned silently, _who __wouldn't__ want to see the mighty Blanche Nightshade get caught in a war between two nasty pieces of work?_

* * *

While Blake left for the Charlotte's Web, Yang and Ruby finally made it back to Rose Hall on Greyhound Road in Hammersmith. Yang opted to guide the cab driver there, and paid him a generous tip for him enduring the noise of Bumblebee, her motorcycle.

"Alright, Ruby," Yang said as Ruby debarked from the cab, "do you want to tell Weiss and Blake about what this Vernal character tried to do to you?"

Ruby nodded haggardly. "Yeah, but not now. We'll go over there after breakfast – say, seven-thirty?"

"We'll bring our weapons as well," Yang decided as she led her motorcycle into its berth on the side garage. "After what happened, I'd sleep easier if you were able to defend yourself against these ruffians." Her expression darkened. "Especially since you _refuse_ to learn about fist-fighting."

Normally, Ruby would launch into a filibuster about why her Crescent Rose would solve any physically violent situation she found herself in, but a combination of drowsiness and recent experience sapped her of the will to argue against Yang's well-founded observation.

"Not now, Yang," Ruby tiredly complained as Yang locked the garage door. "I just need to get some sleep."

Yang's gaze eased up. "Fair enough. I'll wake you at seven-thirty, OK?"

"That sounds fair," Ruby acknowledged, before entering the front door with Yang at her heels.

* * *

It was nearly twelve-thirty by the time Blake returned to Snow Castle. Hastily parking Ninja into its berth within the garage, Blake promptly used the lift to reach the second floor of the castle. Shaking her helmet off and quickly replacing her bow atop her ears, Blake walked as quiet as possible towards the room that Weiss shared with her, which had once belonged to Weiss's parents.

To avoid possible suspicions about her true relationship with Weiss, Blake had voluntarily taken the bedroom on the left of the heiress when she moved in. Little did anyone else know that Weiss had planned for an eventuality where a quick escape from the Snow Castle was necessary, and thus had commissioned a secret door that led into Blake's room, which itself had a wide laundry chute built into a cabinet on the far wall for said escapes. All Blake had to do once she locked the door behind her was place down her helmet on the nightstand, then approach the full length mirror in the middle of the wall between her and Weiss. With the flick of a button hidden within the ornate frame's right side, the mirror slid into the wall's left side, revealing Weiss's room.

Entering inside, Blake replaced the mirror behind her, and beheld her paramour ensconced within the queen-sized four poster bed. Now, Weiss was known for possessing what the Snow Castle staff called "the diamond stare"; it wasn't as distant and shellshocked as the thousand-yard stare commonly seen amongst the ex-military, but it was intense and was a brand of body language unique to the family that sat at the apex of the global economy. It was a look that dictated terms in silence, and it never left Weiss's face when she worked or mixed with people.

And its absence here was why Blake loved to fawn over the sleeping beauty before her. Weiss's face was somewhat cherubic, truth be told, but years of practice and training for her role in the company meant that this factoid went unobserved to the neutral eye. Therefore, seeing Weiss in a completely relaxed state was a rarity, and one that Blake _always _made an effort to treasure wherever she could.

_I won't tell her about my findings now_, the faunus decided as she began to disrobe. _I'll let my snow angel get her beauty sleep, before piling on even more stress about what I've just learned_. Blake swiftly removed her remaining clothes, threw on her lavender silk nightgown, and clambered into the bed. Blake set the alarm for seven o'clock sharp, placed a protective arm around Weiss's midriff, and fell asleep facing her. _I'll always be here, Weiss_, the raven-haired woman vowed as she drifted off into sleep. _No matter who comes, I'll never let anyone build a wall between us_.

* * *

The next morning, the alarm clock clanged on for a brief second until a rather groggy Blake bashed the button down with her fist. Wiping the sleep away from her eyes, Blake arose from her bed and staggered into the ensuite. It was luxuriously appointed, with a large bath and spacious shower, along with a lavatory and vanity. These were made of brass, with mahogany used for the vanity cabinet and lavatory seat. Marble tiles of ivory lined the walls, and turquoise versions of the same textile took pride of place on the ceiling and the floor. Running water was heated with crimson Dust, and separate thermostats enabled the bath and shower to run at differing temperatures. This enabled Blake to have a thirty-nine degree shower, while Weiss ran her bath at forty-three.

Blake was efficient with her showers, which came about due to her instinctive, pantherine dislike of getting wet. Still, Blake persevered for four minutes as she soaped her body down, washed her hair, and brushed her teeth between shampooing and conditioning her black mane. Using a towel and her hair dryer, Blake dried in minutes, donned her gown and walked out as Weiss began to wake up.

"Good morning, my love," Weiss chirped. Despite the bad news she had to deliver, Blake couldn't help but smile at Weiss's relaxed, quasi-ethereal state of being.

"Good morning, my snow angel," Blake replied. Weiss's resultant blushing smile was yet another rarity that Blake had learned to treasure in the preceding year. But still, her mood darkened, and Weiss remembered what Blake's last task for yesterday was.

"Blake," Weiss stated in her measured business voice, "what did you discover last night?"

"Tomorrow evening, at six o'clock, the same crew will try to capture the Spring Maiden."

The diamond stare returned in full force. "_Not if __**we**__ can help it_," Weiss growled.

* * *

**A/N: I must say, Monochrome's grown on me lately - it's swiftly become one of my favourite under-represented pairings, along with Knightshade and Combat Goggles. So I figured I'd give Weiss and Blake a nice sleepy cuddle scene. **

**Blake being a motorcyclist is something I've always dreamed of seeing - so when I realised that DezoPenguin mentioned the creation of the SDC motorcycle in the omake that tied in with Aeneus Idola's last chapter, I made _damned_ sure to include that piece of plot from the beginning.**

**Tune in next Friday as the plot begins to thicken and simmer. Feel free to follow, favourite, and/or review the work.**


	8. Exhamination

Chapter 8 – Exhamination

_Soundtrack: Watching The Detectives – Elvis Costello_

7th of September, 1890.

At five-thirty that morning, Constables Burns and Heyman were patrolling the Regent's Park when they spotted a small, elderly vagrant napping on a park bench in the Winfield House Gardens.

"Shall we wake her up?", Heyman asked.

"May as well," Burns replied, before shaking the vagrant awake.

"_Dios mio_," the old crone muttered _sotto voce _before realising who stood over her. "Wait; you're policemen, right?"

"That we are, mam," Burns replied.

"As I was falling asleep, I saw a group of people in black dress running away from the museum over yonder. Couldn't tell much else, due to the cataracts in my eyes."

Burns felt a lead ball sink into his stomach. "Joel, stay here. I'll take a gander at the place."

"Very well, er …", Heyman uncertainly replied. "Burnie?"

"Michael, actually," Burns noted in mild amusement before running off to Exham Museum's front entrance. Nary four minutes later, the grizzled constable returned out of breath.

"Burgled," he wheezed as his lungs drank in oxygen.

"Shall we call in Chief Inspector Arc?", Heyman asked. "His fiance works there, you know."

Burns considered it for five long seconds. "Aye. Get the examiners as well."

Heyman bustled over to a public telephone, dropped a pair of shillings into it, and began to dial.

Half an hour later, at least a dozen policemen and examiners were on site. They had narrowly failed to prevent a photographer from making a kodak of the crime scene and scarpering to Fleet Street, and the incomplete burglary of the exhibits proved utterly vexing to the boys in blue. And it was at this point that a rather annoyed Jaune Arc debarked from a hansom cab, as expected. But what none were really expecting was an even _more _annoyed Dr. Pyrrha Nikos to arrive on the scene as well.

"What's the situation so far, Burns?", Jaune started irritably.

"From what we've been able to piece together," Burns replied, "the burglars somehow abseiled onto the roof, broke in through the trap door, and managed to burgle the upstairs gallery. However, the lower one was incomplete – likely due to an alarm being raised or suchlike."

"One of the pressure alarms I browbeat my colleagues into installing," Pyrrha clarified in an unusually seething tone.

"Any idea who did it?", Jaune enquired.

"According to an elderly witness whom I interviewed earlier, a group of eight or nine people in black clothing carried it out. I couldn't get much else, owing to the fact that said witness was nearly asleep on a park bench and has cataracts."

"_God __**damn **__it_," Jaune growled, before remembering whose presence he was in and relenting. "Pardon my language. Pyrrha, could you help us by writing a list of the items these swines pinched? I'll have some plain clothes detectives keep watch on the black market for them."

"Of course, Jaune," Pyrrha tiredly replied. She quickly set to work on a notepad, while Jaune continued to coordinate the crime scene to the best of his sleep-addled abilities.

* * *

At seven-thirty that morning, Ruby had ridden pillion on Yang's motorcycle from Rose Hall immediately after breakfast with their combat garb and weapons donned, and were presently roaring down Abbotsbury Road, which harboured the front entrance to the Snow Castle. Pulling over at the gate, Yang flashed the card Weiss had given in the guard's face. Without a word, he pressed a button to open the gates, and Yang rode Bumblebee right up to the front door. To their surprise, Weiss and Blake exited the front door as Yang and Ruby got off their bike.

"Just the people I wanted to find," Weiss said with slightly forced cheer. "How does the morning find you, ladies?"

"We're fine now," Yang started, "but yesterday nearly went bad."

"How come?", Blake asked with concern.

"Vernal, the leader of the pirate crew that tried stealing the Autumn Maiden for Emerald and Mercury, sent two of her men to kidnap me," Ruby replied. "Thankfully, another huntress friend of ours came to my aid, and we sent them off to the police."

Weiss and Blake exchanged stunned, wild-eyed expressions, before turning to face the sisters with rather pallid faces.

"Well, we've just learned that this same crew will try to steal the Spring Maiden tomorrow evening at the South Greenland Docks," Weiss icily responded, which was met by Ruby gasping in surprise.

"If that's the case," Yang suggested, "there's no reason to fight them alone. Want us to help you with a plan to take them down?"

Weiss nodded quickly. "Absolutely. Blake and I actually were going to call in at your house for help with this matter before you two arrived. Blake, take our new friends to my meeting room; I'll need to tie up a few loose ends of business in my private office."

"Agreed," replied Blake with the faintest smirk on her face. As Weiss ran ahead, Blake calmly walked up the staircase with Ruby and Yang in tow, getting off at the first floor and walking down the passageway that led to the reception room. Blake full well knew that by _loose ends of business_, Weiss referred to the crossword within the Times that she regularly completed every morning before _actually_ tending to her work. However, today was a different story.

As soon as Weiss arrived in her office and beheld the picture that adorned the front page of the Times, Weiss shook and shuddered with surprise. A tapestry within Exham Museum had been ruined by thieves who painted a sigil on it after stealing several items containing gold, along with about two thousand in sterling. It was unmistakably the same design painted on the gangway of the Autumn Maiden.

"_Gott verdammt_," the heir-apparent breathed.

At that point, Blake barrelled into the office, slightly out of breath.

"Weiss, your father just called. Urgent business concerning the Autumn Maiden. He wants you in his private office _right now_."

Weiss's eyebrows shot up. "Is that right? Demanding an unscheduled meeting is not like him at all. Still, it wouldn't do to keep him waiting."

* * *

Weiss turned towards the bookcase on her left side, then pulled the red binder in the very centre. The bookshelf moved inwards slightly, then slid to the left to reveal Weiss's private lift. It only stopped on one floor; the floor reserved for her father. It seemed such a trite indulgence, but her current office had jointly belonged to her father _and_ her great-aunt when her grandfather built the manor in 1875 and began to lead operations there in his final years; it made _sense _for Margarethe and Johannes to have near-instant access to the top floor.

Opening the doors, Weiss ensconced herself within the gold-plated carriage, and pressed the higher of two buttons. The doors shut themselves pneumatically, and the verdant Dust circuits began their work. As the carriage ascended the three floors between Weiss's first-floor office and the proverbial bird's nest atop the Snow Castle, Weiss checked her appearance in the mirror opposite the doors. She looked immaculate, and yet determined. _Good_, she concluded while turning to the doors. _Father won't nitpick over my appearance at all_. The lift ceased its movement at that point; once the doors hissed open, Weiss pushed out the false wall in front of her and strode out.

This entire floor had remained unused since the passing of Nicolaus Schnee years earlier. Johannes, his successor, left it untouched whilst using his private study near his old quarters for private work. However, his advancing years, the loss of his absolute control of the company, and the robbery that Blake Belladonna pulled off last year had upped his paranoia to the point where he saw the sense in relocating his offices and quarters to an unassailable area, and refurbished the floor to his standards.

As a consequence, the suite Weiss entered was worth more in sterling than the Crown Jewels. The floor was marble tiled, the walls encrusted in golden light fixtures and oak panels between the rows of bookshelves, and the ceiling was a perfect replica of Michelangelo's efforts in the Sistine Chapel. There were two entrances to the left and right of the room; the door on Weiss's left led to the reception, where her father's secretarial pool worked and two lifts ended. The door to her right led to the President's bedroom, which was austere and totally bedecked in white; it also had a personal lift for servants, and for Weiss's mother when she didn't want to deal with the secretaries out front.

A large desk of mahogany took pride of place in the middle of the room, with six white leather seats arched around one side, and a white leather swivel chair on the other side. A pair of telephones sat on either side of the desk; the one on the right was solely wired to the head offices in Schnee Tower, while the one on the left was rigged into an intercom system. A top-of-the-line Analytical Engine sat on the right, while the left harboured stationery, paper and other utensils. There were no windows, which was both a safety feature and a blessing for the acrophobic man seated upon his throne.

If Johannes Schnee was surprised at a section of his presidential office wall opening, he hid it perfectly.

"Looking impeccable as always, Weiss."

"Nothing less for you, Father," Weiss evenly replied.

Johannes half-smiled at that.

"Thanks, my child." His expression settled into the stoic, measured gaze he was renowned for. "I take it that you're wondering why I summoned you here without advance notice?"

"Indeed, Father."

"I want you to take a look at this," he said while holding up the front page of the Times. "Does the sigil in the painting match the one that you and Miss Belladonna mentioned in your report on the Autumn Maiden?"

"It _is _the same."

* * *

The resultant reaction was the first time Weiss had ever beheld her father _flinch_. Eyes widened and mouth agape, Johannes looked positively _haunted _as he realised the implications at stake now. Against his want to protect his daughter from any retribution for his actions, he decided to employ a tactic he rarely used with her; complete honesty.

"Weiss, this … this symbol is known to me. It's the crest of a Hong Kong family I crossed paths with twenty years ago."

Weiss's eyebrows nearly jumped off her forehead; _crossed paths with _was her father's euphemism for _destroyed, wronged and/or ruined_, and therefore wasn't a surprise to her. His regretful tone, however, _was _a surprise – enough of a surprise to send Weiss's worst fears scurrying to the forefront of her mind. Weiss promptly decided that she was done with pretence and preamble at this point.

"Who were this family, and how exactly did they warrant your _crossing paths _with them?"

Johannes took a seat at this point, and began to pour a glass of claret while Weiss took the cue and sat opposite him.

"This will take a while to explain," he said softly. "Feel free to send Miss Belladonna in here to take notes; you'll likely need them to find any clues to our adversaries, and hopefully their weaknesses and capabilities."

Weiss hid the surprise of her father forsaking his legendary personal privacy physically, but not mentally. "Of course, Father. May I use the intercom?"

"Be my guest."

Weiss leaned to the left of her father, and called her own office.

"Yes, Mr President?"

"Blake, it's Weiss. Care to join me and the President in his private office for a spot of note-taking?"

A pause followed, broken by a mildly surprised reply. "I-if you say so, ma'am. Should I bring our … shall we say, expediters?"

The Schnees held eye contact for a second, before Johannes nodded twice. "Agreed. Tell them to sit within the office, but closer to the door to ward off intrusion. They are to remain silent unless spoken to."

"Of course. We'll be there presently, ma'am. Over and out."

* * *

Weiss returned to her seat, and asked the obvious.

"Out of sheer interest, Father, how come you wish for my secretary and two huntresses to hear your testimony as well? It's not like you to regale an audience with this sort of story, let alone trust them to keep it quiet."

"True," the older Schnee admitted, "but there is sometimes strength in numbers, and I know that you'll do anything to stop our foes in their tracks. As for the three women in your employ, I've long since heard from Strauss that Belladonna's more capable in sleuthing and skulduggery than anyone else on our books. And you've already said that Ms. Rose and Ms. Xiao Long proved invaluable when defending the Autumn Maiden."

"Fair enough," Weiss admitted. At that moment, the false wall opened again, and three figures emerged from it. Yang had Ruby's mouth pre-emptively clamped shut for her dignity's sake, while Blake led the way.

"Greetings, all of you," Johannes started calmly. "You did an exceptional job defending the Autumn Maiden, by the way, so allow me to extend my personal thanks."

"You're most welcome, sir," Blake replied deferentially with a slight bow, while Ruby and Yang smiled and said nothing in response.

"Feel free to take a seat, by the way," Johannes added lightly.

"As you wish, sir," Blake replied. While Yang and Ruby sat in the middle, thereby honouring Johannes's request, Weiss sat on Johannes's right, while Blake matched her on the left.

"Now, I take it the three of you noticed the front page picture the Times ran this morning?"

After two seconds, Blake's eyes widened and nodded; she'd connected the dots. Ruby and Yang, however, were not the sort who frequently read the more conservative papers, and consequently shook their heads.

"If not, then I'll tell you what was; the sigil that got painted on the Autumn Maiden was replicated at Exham Museum during a burglary. The Times got a picture of it, and that alerted myself to a business decision that I'd made when you were all but infants."

Blake instantly looked concerned, while Ruby became more curious than before. Even Yang's stock-in-trade irreverence was absent from her gaze.

"It happened just over twenty years ago, not a year after Nicolaus Schnee, my father, handed me control and oversight of our expansion into Africa and Asia – my first role of any autonomy or power in the company. I'd received word that China had several Dust mines in operation – none of which were controlled by our company. Desperate for answers as to why that wasn't the case, and even more desperate to become a success in my father's eyes, I decided to take a delegation to visit the city and help whomever was leading the technology expand both of our fortunes in the area …"

* * *

**A/N: And we're leaving it there. ****Stay tuned next Friday for revelations a-plenty.**

**As always, feel free to review, follow and/or favourite this fic.**


	9. The Fallen Triad

Chapter 9 – The Fallen Triad

_Soundtrack: Everybody Wants To Rule The World – Tears For Fears_

19th of July, 1870.

Hong Kong was one of six Asian cities to employ Dust technology in any capacity during 1870. And while Singapore, Tokyo, Lahore, Delhi and Bombay were integrating the Schnee Dust Company and their technology to the best of their abilities, the Chinese were wary of the family who dominated Europe, gained a foothold in New England, and were then vying for control over the cradle of mankind. Furthermore, the Chinese did their level best to adhere to their Confucian way of life, and found that this newfangled technology was anathema to their goal.

That wasn't to say that the Chinese _completely _shunned the use of Dust, however. As an experiment, they had decided to restrict Dust technology to the one city within their borders that had the largest amount of traffic from the outside world; Hong Kong. It thus became the centre of Chinese trade, technology and diplomacy, and was also one-third of the power structure of Chinese governance, with Shanghai serving as the military headquarters and Beijing serving as the home of the monarchy and parliament.

On a balmy summer's morning, the SS Mantle came to dock in the Victoria Harbour. Driving off of it was a white, enclosed carriage with three occupants ensconced within and a driver on the outside. After all, business magnates never did anything so crude and pedestrian as _drive their own vehicles_. The first occupant was a tall, gaunt man named Corvus Branwen, and he'd been the head of Schnee security since the company opened shop in London. A Welshman with a hint of ancestry from the Emerald Isle, the veteran of the Indian rebellion was grizzled, stern and utterly devoid of compunction over killing or maiming anyone who wronged his employers.

Margarethe Schnee was the second occupant of the vehicle. She was present because of her aptitude for negotiation and experienced counsel, both of which were highly regarded by the last occupant – a young, alabaster-haired man by the name of Johannes Damian Jakob Schnee. He looked determined, yet nervous as the carriage arrived at the Central Government Offices off of Harcourt Road.

Leaving the carriage, Johannes and Margarethe led the way, while Corvus moved behind them out with his eyes rolling around like pinwheels, always watching for threats. Entering the building, Johannes was greeted by a servant.

"The Minister is ready to meet you, sir and madam," the servant began in good English. "He waits within his office on the second floor, near the atrium."

"Why thank you," Johannes replied politely. "Have a good day."

* * *

The trio entered the lift, remaining calm and silent until the second floor was reached. Stepping out, they quickly located the atrium and found the office. Entering the room, Johannes lay eyes on the Chinese Minister for Trade. He was a slight, bespectacled man in his late thirties, with small spikes of charcoal-coloured hair framing his thin face. Despite the man's easy smile, there was a nervousness in his hazel eyes that belied everything he did – as though he always walked on egg shells.

"Minister Houlong, if I'm not mistaken," Johannes greeted with an outstretched hand.

"Please, call me Park," the politician replied calmly while shaking hands. "So, what business idea did you want to discuss with me today, Mr. Schnee?"

"As I see it," Johannes started, "China is on the precipice of embracing Dust technology on a much broader scale than beheld before. As heir-apparent to the Schnee Dust Company, I want to help China make upgrades to its infrastructure – especially since the military, the monarchical and the diplomatic arms of the Chinese state are divided between Hong Kong, Shanghai and Beijing.

"What I propose is the construction of a massive tunnel that features a high-speed rail and telephone line between the three cities, as well as rail and telephone networks within Shanghai and Beijing in the same vein as those found here. It will take fifteen to twenty years to complete," he added while Margarethe handed Park a copy of the proposals, "but the benefits would be worth the investment."

"And what price," Park responded, "must China pay for your help?"

"The only thing I ask for in return," Johannes replied calmly, "is exclusive operation of the Dust mines after the project is completed, and joint operation between my company and the Chinese government whilst the project is still in operation."

"There's one problem with that," Park responded nervously. "All of our Dust mines are operated by the Qiū family already."

"In that case," Margarethe piped up, "why not propose a business alliance? Making use of their Dust for the project will help boost their business, as well as remove the need for importing Dust components which can be made in Hong Kong."

"An _excellent_ idea, Margarethe," Johannes declared proudly. "Shall we discuss this with the head of the Qiū family?"

Park nodded, hesitantly. "I can check if that's feasible. Allow me to make a phone call, and I'll try to make this happen."

"Of course, Park," Johannes admitted. The three left the room while Park picked up the receiver. After a minute's silence, Corvus's feelings couldn't remain contained.

"Sounds like these Qiū fellows aren't legitimate, and Park's stuck in their web," Corvus muttered.

"Definitely," Johannes responded. "Still, when in Rome ..."

At this point, Park leaned out of the office. "Qiū Liúhuáng is on his way to give his response. He should be here in quarter of an hour."

"Capital!", Johannes remarked. "In the meantime, shall we discuss some of the logistical details of the proposal?"

"Of course," Park replied as the three re-entered the office.

Exactly sixteen minutes later, Qiū Liúhuáng strode into the office. He was a Chinese-English hybrid of forty who looked both imperious and impervious. His face was harder than granite, with a perpetual look of disapproval chiselled onto his face.

"Qiū Liúhuáng," Park started, "this is Johannes Schnee and Margarethe Schnee. They're the architects of the business proposal I told you about earlier."

"Well met, Mr. Qiū," Johannes replied before bowing in greeting, as Margarethe curtsied.

"Now Liúhuáng," Margarethe started, "we have a -"

"Did I _ask_ you to talk, _**jìnǚ**_?", Liúhuáng snarled ferally. "I want **nothing** to do with some moronic woman who _dares _dictate business deals with me." Park looked shocked at his choice of words, as Johannes responded in kind after Margarethe began to tear up.

"_How __**dare**__ you treat my aunt with disrespect!_", he bellowed as Qiū Liúhuáng left. While Park began to apologise profusely to Margarethe, Johannes glared at Corvus, and nodded twice. Corvus knew all too well what had been asked of him, and he nodded once in return as an affirmation. The smile Johannes sported at that moment was downright predatory.

That night, the Qiū family were happily relaxing at their mansion at Jardine's Lookout, one of the leafier suburbs in the southern half of Hong Kong. Suddenly, a knock came at the front door, and the butler dashed to open it. It was the last mistake he'd ever make, as Corvus blew a hole into the man's chest with his silenced six-shooter.

* * *

Half an hour later, the team of ten gunmen that Corvus Branwen had set upon the family had completed their grisly work. No one within was spared, and the silent manor house was being picked clean for anything of value. At present, Corvus was helping arrange the scene to make it look like another triad had gained revenge against the Qiū family. Suddenly, one of the gunmen called out to him from the stairwell.

"Sir! I've found some blueprints in the basement!"

"Is that right, eh?", Corvus responded. "Let's see them."

The younger man ran to his boss and held the main blueprint out for Corvus to examine. Though he was an old soldier, Corvus had served in the Fusiliers; he therefore had a rudimentary knowledge of Dust technology, and was therefore quite surprised to see designs for a navigation system that lacked the need for manual operation. One simply needed an Analytical Engine, one of the newest Dust technologies available in 1870, for inputting a destination, and this system did the rest. It was years ahead of the advancements made by his employers, and was consequently _extremely _valuable.

"Well spotted, Andrews," Corvus eventually said. "You didn't happen to see any other prints lying around the place, did you?"

"No sir," Andrews replied.

"Very well," Corvus responded. "Johannes will be pleased to get this. All right, lads!", he called out to the rest of his team, "let's get packing."

Four minutes later, the Qiū mansion lay dormant. It would remain this way until an eight-year old girl and her seventy-three year-old grandmother returned there from a holiday in Xanadu three days later, at which point it became the birthing ground to a weapon utterly dedicated to the destruction of the Schnee Dust Company. A monster like every other that bore the Qiū name.

The day after the Qiū family fell, Johannes returned to see Park Houlong in his office. Straight away, Johannes noticed that Park looked more relaxed than he was before. _I was right; the Qiū_ _were__ behind his recalcitrance to our deal_, Johannes observed as he shook hands. _Hopefully I'll have better success this time, even if I merely wanted them bashed to a pulp instead of killed_.

"Now Park," Johannes started smugly, "I believe you have a solution to yesterday's impasse?"

"Indeed; here's the government's counter-proposal," Park responded. "We'll allow your company to construct the railway and communications networks between and within Hong Kong, Shanghai and Beijing, but we'll keep the Qiū mines in our control until the end of 1890 – with the sole intent of using those mines to maintain the existing technology we already have at our disposal, and to fuel your proposal. After 1890, if no member of the Qiū family steps forward to claim the mines, we'll hand control of the mines over to you."

Johannes recognised what this meant; given that Corvus had acted dishonourably, the Chinese were trying to con him out of a fortune by playing the long game. Failing to claim complete control of the mines straight away wouldn't please his father either. However, Johannes also knew that increasing the company's business by developing critical infrastructure would prove a massive windfall for the family regardless. The fact that the Qiū triad were in no position to claim the mines helped as well.

"Very well," he eventually replied. "I accept your proposal."

"Good to hear it," Park averred whilst shaking hands with Johannes. "I'll have the paperwork signed immediately, inform the parliament about this decision, and start arranging for construction teams to work with your engineers."

* * *

7th of September, 1890.

"And as a result of old Corvus _misinterpreting _my orders," Johannes concluded, "we are set to claim control of the Chinese Dust mines in three months, unless those Qiū devils resurface. Given the state of affairs, it's possible that a child of the family was holidaying somewhere else when the triad got dealt with, then reared by sympathetic friends or colleagues as an instrument of vengeance. As dastardly as my actions were, the things that Chinese triads are willing to do are even _worse_. Therefore, the Qiū triad _cannot_ be allowed to regain power in China, lest they corrupt the political process and dominate the East Asian market once again."

The four women were stunned into silence at the revelations. After a rather long pause, Weiss spoke up.

"Well, that's enough of that," she conveyed in a quiet tone that guaranteed a perforated eardrum to Johannes in the near future. Blake pre-emptively stopped her lover's tirade with a question.

"Incidentally, what happened to the technology they developed?"

"That auto-navigation system, after being suppressed long enough to be on par with current technology, was installed solely on the four _Amphitrite_-class ships built in 1882. The Winter Maiden, my private ship, was the first to receive the technology; the Summer Maiden, our flagship in all of our quasi-military matters, was the second. The Autumn and Spring Maidens, however, are top-of-the-line cargo vessels; the former is our flagship in American and North European trading, and the latter does the same for our Asian and Mediterranean markets.

"Anyhow, this system is installed as a fail-safe in the event of the crew getting incapacitated or engaged in combat; with the system engaged, even a simpleton can tell the ship where it's destination lay."

"So if our assailant gets their hands on any of the Maiden ships," Weiss realised, "they'll be able to take it directly to China and use it against us."

"Exactly," Johannes concluded. "And while I'm not sure of it, I have a gut feeling that the robberies that occurred during July and August are intended to help in a plan to restore the Qiū family to power."

"How so, sir?", Blake enquired. "As I understand it, the August robberies removed several Dust components along with some case-hardened steel from the Cardiff warehouse, and several quantities of different polymers and automaton miscellanea from the Sheffield warehouse, but all Weiss told us about that train in Rotherham was that something valuable got pinched from it."

"Is that so, Miss Belladonna? Well, I'll take the liberty of telling you and the huntresses, on proviso that you three tell _no-one_ _else_."

"Of course, sir," Blake acquiesced, while Ruby and Yang nodded emphatically.

"Very well. What got stolen was a briefcase of new invention designs that were being sent to London to be developed. They were designs of new weapons and military vehicles for the benefit of General Ironwood. Fortunately, the original blueprints weren't in the case; there were multiple copies made, and the originals and other copies got through to him a few days later."

"Even so," Weiss replied, "the fact that our enemy has access to military designs and materials doesn't sit well with me. We'll need as much force as we can get to stamp out this problem before it gets too big for us to cover up. They were lasted spotted on Salter Road in Rotherhithe."

"Very well; I agree," Johannes concurred. "I'll arrange for my automatist to assist in making Dust munitions for the four of you, and I'll also provide a safehouse on Rotherhithe Avenue itself for you to use for surveillance work."

Weiss smiled confidently. "My thanks, Father. I won't fail you, and my cohorts here won't fail me."

Johannes nodded in satisfaction. "Excellent. I'll start by making the necessary telephone calls; I should have the safe-house readied in two hours, and Grünwald should become available by the evening."

Weiss nodded. "Very good. We'll get straight to work and complete our mission."

As the quartet went to leave, Ruby turned to face Johannes with a smile on her face.

"It was an honour to meet you, sir."

Johannes's gaze and smile became warmer, giving off a quasi-grandfatherly air.

"Likewise, Miss Rose."

* * *

No sooner had Weiss's lift stopped at its destination, then the phone rang. Blake surged forward to answer it as the clock struck ten.

"You're talking to Blake Belladonna, secretary of Weiss Schnee. State your business."

"Miss Belladonna, it's Chief Inspector Jaune Arc of Scotland Yard. A stolen Black Maria has been found gutted by fire on the north bank of the Thames, near the Rotherhithe docks. A message that read "Fuck the Ice Queen; kill Weiss Schnee." was written in red paint on the wreckage, along with the same damned sigil that we found in Exham Museum this morning."

_Uh-oh_.

"Noted. I'll be sure to inform my boss about that in short order. Please ring back in say, ten minutes so we can discuss details?"

"Sounds good to me," the policeman replied. "I'll ring you soon."

Once Blake hung up the phone, she slumped forward.

"Blake, what's wrong?", Weiss asked. "You've gotten paler than _me_, for crying out loud!"

"First Exham Museum gets burgled," she groused, "now some policeman by the name of Jaune just told me that the culprits torched a Black Maria near Rotherhithe and left a death threat for you, along with that blasted sigil."

"Jaune?", Weiss asked. "Do you mean the Inspector Jaune Arc of the Yard?"

"Chief Inspector now," Blake replied.

"The man tipped me off about Emerald and Mercury in the first place," Weiss confessed. "Getting his help will be a good idea."

"And since me and Yang have been friends of his for roughly half our lives," Ruby noted, "he'd be even happier to lend a hand in dealing with these madmen."

"Then there's his fiance, Dr. Pyrrha Nikos," Yang added. "She works at Exham Museum, and is no slouch with a sword or a rifle. She'd likely be chomping at the bit to return the items the bastards stole from there."

"And her butler used to be a professional bouncer, and one of our mutual friends is "Bloody Nora" Valkyrie", Ruby concluded, to Blake's thinly veiled glee and Weiss's obvious confusion. "Getting them on-side would stack the deck in our favour, without going into all-out war and causing a public scandal."

Weiss considered it for ten long seconds, before a plan hit her like a bolt of lightning.

"Blake," she asked, "fetch our weapons and prepare my personal vehicle that you'll be driving."

"Understood," the secretary replied before bustling out. Weiss then turned to the sisters.

"Yang," she asked, "would you mind writing down an address for a meeting. Perhaps somewhere no-one would actually think to spy on?"

Yang _instantly_ came up with an idea. "I know a place. We'll meet at Pyrrha's townhouse. It's on Hornton Road in Kensington, opposite the library."

"Good thought," Weiss admitted as Yang set to work. "And Ruby," she asked sweetly, "would you mind giving Dr. Nikos and Ms. Valkyrie a telephone call once Jaune calls us again? I believe we've got _much_ to discuss."

* * *

**A/N: So yeah, this is a heavy chapter. Hope you enjoyed it!**

**Stay tuned next week as we hit the mid-fic finale.**


	10. Team Meeting

Chapter 10 – Team Meeting

_Soundtrack: The Chain – Fleetwood Mac_

At eleven-thirty that morning, Lie Ren had finished tending to the Nikos townhouse, and sat down to do the crosswords, as per his custom. He was just finishing the hard one within the Times when there was a sudden knock at the door.

"Coming!", Ren called out as he leapt from the dining room and jumped towards the door. "Who's there?"

"Your favourite sloth bear!"

Ren chuckled as he opened the door and cuddled his girlfriend and occasional hunting partner.

"Hello, my _chailín_," he said tenderly, before kissing Nora on the cheek and closing the door behind him.

"My _buachaill_," Nora replied, before booping Ren's nose. It was at this moment that Ren realised that Magnhild hung astride Nora's left hip, and that she was wearing her combat outfit.

"Nora, how come you came here in full combat garb?"

Nora's eyes lit up in recollection. "_Oh_, thanks for the reminder! We've both been asked to help Pyrrha and Jaune arrest a bunch of crooks for the SDC. Big pay-day and everything."

Ren's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "That's reasonable from a financial standpoint, but why _us _in particular? I'd have thought that the SDC would've had people on their payroll for this kind of job."

"Well, they do have Yang and Ruby helping us," Nora admitted, "but our experiences were what the SDC wanted. Because these crooks are the pirate crew you told us about, and they're being led by your old bosses."

At this, Ren grimaced as he flashed back to his days amongst the Grimm, training with Mercury. The man was a libertine in the worst sense of the word, and an alcoholic sot at the best of times, but he was an unholy terror when it came to fisticuffs. And that's before considering that Emerald had some skill with pistols and was crazed beyond reason. Ren then paled at the thought of _them_ hurting his friends, and began to shudder at the idea of _Nora _getting endangered. _**No**_, Ren averred, _I will __**not**__ let that happen_.

"I'll do it," he vowed sternly. "Anything to ensure you and our friends don't come to harm at the hands of the monsters I should've tamed all those years ago."

Nora took Ren's hand in her own, and looked unusually melancholic at this. "Ren, _please _don't put yourself down like that. You've been forgiven and befriended by all of our friends, and I love you regardless of your past. All I ask of you, Rennie, is that you forgive yourself for your mistakes."

Before Ren could respond, Nora enveloped her boyfriend in a strong bear hug. "Let's protect one another out there, sloth bear," the ginger Galway girl tenderly affirmed.

"Agreed," Ren calmly concurred, before sweeping Nora off her feet. The typical squeal she'd have unleashed was quickly silenced as Ren planted a pash on her lips.

"Nice one!", a wry voice called out from the doorway.

Ren quickly dropped Nora onto the ground, and the pair looked embarrassed as Pyrrha and Jaune stood in front of Ruby, Yang, and two other women – all of whom were dressed in combat gear. Behind them stood Yang's motorcycle and Weiss's car.

"It's okay, you two," Pyrrha laughed. "Anyway, I'd like to introduce you two to Weiss Schnee, and her companion and secretary, Blake Belladonna."

Turning back to Weiss and Blake, Pyrrha completed the introductions. "Weiss, Blake, meet Lie Ren, my butler and bodyguard, and Nora Valkyrie, huntress."

Ren bowed, as befitting a servant and an Asian man, while Nora curtsied as demurely as she could manage with Magnhild on her hip.

"Well met," Weiss started in her business voice, walking forward and shaking Ren and Nora's hands firmly.

"Likewise," Ren replied, with Nora nodding with a smile.

Blake followed afterwards.

"Nice to meet the two of you," she said calmly, but with a slightly more friendly tone. "Ruby's told us all about her 'awesome ninja butler and crazy blacksmithing huntress' friends."

"Well," Ren said with a small chuckle, "it seems our reputation grew in the telling."

Blake's trademark smirk revealed itself, while the others chuckled at the quip. After regaining her composure, Pyrrha came up to him.

"Now Ren, I'm sorry for foisting this onto you in a hurry, but we'll need to have lunch for this meeting. It could go for quite a long while."

Ren nodded and promptly bolted to the kitchen in a frenzy. He quickly pulled out the bread, meats and salad ingredients that he needed to assemble into a lunch platter, while firing up the kettle and preparing a pot of tea. _Right_, he started, _I'll do ham, lettuce and tomato, chicken & cheese, and tuna with mayonnaise and lettuce. That __should__ be enough to satiate their needs._

As the Asiatic butler worked at breakneck speed, Jaune and Pyrrha ushered their five guests into the parlour. Ruby and Yang parked their backsides on the couch in front of the window, while Weiss and Blake took up both the armchairs. Nora dragged the piano stool to a spot next to the hearth, and pulled up a hard wooden chair with a magenta cushion on it, ostensibly for Ren. As for the hosts, the engaged couple sat on the last remaining couch next to the piano and stairs, opposite Ruby and Yang, with Weiss and Blake on their left and Nora on the right.

And finally, a rather perspiring Ren came in with a tray full of hastily-arranged sandwiches, along with a pot of strong Irish breakfast.

"My apologies for the state of the food," he began without much breath, "for I wasn't expecting guests at this hour."

"There's nothing to forgive, Ren," Weiss uttered.

"Come and sit with us, please," added Pyrrha with a smile. Ren nodded with a calmer expression, and took his place next to his girlfriend. Meanwhile, Blake opened her briefcase, and retrieved a pair of pencils and a slightly used notebook. Closing her briefcase, Blake balanced her notebook on it.

"All right then," Blake started with a tuna sandwich in her hand and a pencil in the other one, "let's go over what we've learned over the last few days."

* * *

"So now that's all on the table," Jaune summarised an hour later, "here's what I suggest we do. After taking all of your statements down and processing them at the Yard, I can lead a search effort on Salter Road and the surrounding area using plain-clothes detectives, then apprehend these conspirators and have them thrown in the dock for robbery, attempted kidnapping, attempted hijacking and all the Grimm crimes. We're talking _at least _five years of hard labour for the whole lot, and around twenty-five for Emerald, Mercury and their master."

"That would be ideal," Weiss admitted, "were it not for the fact that their ringleader has a grievance against my father for ruining their family's fortunes in a rather _underhanded_ way two decades ago. As convenient as it would be to clap them in chains and call it a job well done, we need to be a little more discreet about dealing with them – lest my father's reputation be ruined and our company dragged into the quagmire with it."

"If that's the case, Weiss," Jaune responded, "how do you propose we deal with the matter?"

"Well," Weiss began, "my father is arranging for a safe-house on Rotherhithe Avenue itself, for us to use for surveillance. It should be ready by now, and we'll be receiving my family's full-time automatist and weapon-smith to aid us in making ammunition and maintaining our weapons this evening. The goal here is to entice the enemies to make their move first, and give them the idea that nothing's going wrong, while _we _prepare some tricks of our own device."

"Exploiting the element of surprise," Ren realised. "Smart move."

"Thank you," Weiss courteously replied. "What we _can _do in the lead up to them making a break for it is two-fold; first, we'll need to stock up on ammunition and the like, and that means we need to acquire parts and Dust components for our weapon-smith to use."

"I can help you there," Nora offered. "There's a blacksmith next to Baron's Court station that supplies ammunition to us hunters for our use – Neptune Vasilias. I used to work for him, so I can vouch for his skill, and we should be able to get those parts without breaking the bank account too much."

"Money's no object to me," Weiss responded, "but I'll still go with this Neptune fellow. After all, he'll have your individual needs memorised, and will likely have surplus parts for your benefit."

"Sweet!", Nora replied. "I'll give him a call once we've finalised the plans."

Weiss nodded. "The second idea is a bit more experimental. Yang and Blake both have a couple of our top-shelf motorcycles, and our weapon-smith has been prototyping a new addition to the ensemble."

Blake's eyes lit up in recognition. "You mean -"

"_Yes_, Blake, we're using the sidecars."

"Sidecars?", Yang asked confusedly.

"They're wheeled carriages that can carry two people," Blake explained, "and they attach to our motorcycles through the use of extra-strength violet Dust magnetic latches, and a power feed that links a verdant-golden Dust propulsion system to the main engine's controls. Dr. Verhart Grünwald has a couple of prototypes for military use that have operable Gatling guns within the front chassis."

Yang whistled. "_Nice_. Now I know what I can get so Ruby can ride to missions in comfort with me."

"I'll admit I like the idea," Ruby said, "even if motorcycles are noisier than Nora on the bottle."

Ren quickly stifled Nora's squawk of indignation while Jaune quickly diverted the room's attention with another idea as the others muffled their laughter. "This plan seems more dangerous than mine, but it could work. However, I have another idea to add. If we convince both Special Branch and the SDC's militarised security to prevent civilians from going near the Spring Maiden during the mission, then we could use that as an advantage."

"Good thinking, Jaune," Weiss admitted. "Not only would we minimise civilian casualties, but we'd effectively be trapping these villains in the process. In any case, General Ironwood, who leads said military, would likely be happy to help. Getting him to come heavy in person will take some doing, but I'm confident I can manage."

Jaune nodded. "And I've long since become friends with Inspector Branwen, who helped me in the Lionheart case. Getting him to agree to aid a sting operation would be child's play for me."

Weiss smiled while fetching a piece of paper. "Glad to hear it, Jaune. I'll arrange for a cab to ferry you all to the safe-house, which is at this address."

She handed the paper to Jaune, who tucked it in his breast pocket.

"Pardon me, Weiss," Ren interjected, "but wouldn't it be more economical to pick up the ammunition supplies before going there?"

"That's a good point," Jaune noted. "How about we get Nora to fetch those components while the rest of us repair to the safe-house?"

"That's a decent idea, actually," Pyrrha replied. "Ren, feel free to use my suit-carrier upstairs to store my safari outfit along with your combat gear and our weapons and ammunition."

Ren nodded, before hopping quickly up the stairs to retrieve the gear in question. Yang, meanwhile, decided to speak her piece.

"If no-one minds, I'll help Nora with the ammunition too. My motorcycle can ferry the essentials to the safe-house faster."

"Good thinking," Weiss admitted, not noticing Yang's slight smile of victory. "Jaune, once we've arrived at Rotherhithe Avenue, I'll have you call Qrow Branwen about this."

"Absolutely," Jaune enthused. "Now let's get this operation into gear."

* * *

**A/N: And here's the mid-fic finale. ****I'll be taking a month to build-up more backlog, and should be back on the 17th of May - or the 16th of May for the American readers. ****Next chapter will show Yang and Nora meeting up with Neptune, but that's all I'm saying at this point.**

**And lastly, I extend my thanks to all of you for getting this fic over the 1,000 hits mark!**


	11. Setup: Plying Supplies

Chapter 11 – Setup: Plying Supplies

_Soundtrack: Pretty Woman – Roy Orbison_

Fifteen minutes after the meeting wrapped up, the hansom cab Weiss had booked arrived. The octet emerged from the house, galvanised by the task ahead of them and determined all the more to succeed. Keeping Myrtenaster and Gambol Shroud on their person, Blake and Weiss jumped into the latter's car, and Blake began to negotiate the quagmire that was daytime Greater London. Ruby and Jaune jumped into the hansom cab first, while Ren and Pyrrha hauled their coterie of weapons inside the cab before they boarded it and followed Weiss's vehicle.

As for Nora, she donned her earmuffs and driving goggles while Yang mounted her motorcycle and activated her rear handlebars.

"That's a neat trick," Nora confessed as Yang was readying her helmet.

"It sure is," the bastard replied. "Helps keep prying hands from fondling me if I'm taking a suspect to a police station."

"That happens?" Nora asked in disbelief.

Yang turned with a slight smile and emptied one of her duster's pockets, revealing a roll of electrical tape and her handcuffs. "Once. Not any more."

Nora cackled as she gripped the rear handlebars, while Yang jammed her helmet down and fired Bumblebee up. The motorcycle tore down Hornton Road, slipping right down Kensington High Street in all its finery. Nora, being the sort to enjoy and savour the scenery of her adopted home, was equally amazed and disoriented at the sight of the street whizzing past her in a blurry cavalcade of colours, lights and signage.

After a while, Yang spied the next turn to make, and zipped into the left lane. Her timing was impeccable, as the left-hand turn was given the green light. Turning left onto Warrick Road, Yang made quick time as she _floored _the bike down the stretch of arterial road, marked by factories on the western side and shops to the eastern side. Zipping into the right hand lane, Yang's luck was with her as she didn't need to wait before the final turn.

Going right onto West Cromwell Road, Bumblebee roared over the bridge that rose to accommodate the District line of the Underground. Even now, a tube train whizzed underneath while the motorcycle roared overhead. Leaving the bridge, the pair of huntresses entered an area that had only been built up in the last four years, being a curious blend of residential houses and industrial complexes. This mish-mash of conflicting architecture was even _more _disorienting to Nora, who felt the need for a glass brandy to calm herself down after this.

* * *

Finally coming to a stop near Baron's Court station, both the huntresses dismounted in perfect synchronisation. After sharing a laugh at sheer coincidence, Nora opened the gate behind the shop with her keys, and Yang led Bumblebee into the yard behind the building and parked it. Getting out of said yard and closing the gate, the two women walked around the corner towards the front door of Sea-King Repairs, only to be greeted by a sign taped on the door.

_I'm out for lunch, but will be back at half past one. Apologies for the inconvenience. N.V._

"That's not like him," Yang started curiously. "He usually makes himself a sandwich to eat on the job."

"Then again," Nora pointed out, "there's a bakery in the station up ahead of us. Perhaps he wanted to try it out?"

"Good point," Yang conceded. She promptly took out a compact mirror and checked her appearance.

"Never took you to be a victim of vanity," Nora joked. To her surprise, Yang silently pulled out a tube of rose pink lipstick and applied it carefully. This hit Nora like a ton of bricks, and surprise was evident on her rather agape face as she realised what this meant.

"Do you – do you actually _fancy _Neptune?!", Nora exclaimed.

"_Not so loud_," Yang whisper-yelled. In a more sedate tone of voice, she continued. "But yes, I do."

Turning back to her compact and shaking her hair loose from the helmet-like shape it had assumed, Yang smiled at her reflection. "Hopefully, I'll come across as appealing, and not annealing."

Nora chuckled half a second later, having long since grasped the depths of Yang's wordplay skills.

"For your sake, I hope you do," Nora admitted. "You'd be a good match for Neptune."

"Thanks, Nora," Yang said with a gentle smile, before suddenly looking to her friend concernedly. "By the way, how should I broach this with him?", she asked. "I'm not sure if he'll say anything to me himself ..."

"Asking him out yourself would be the best move," the Irish lass instantly replied. "After all, I can tell he likes you, and you're right in guessing that he won't admit it on his own will."

"How _can_ you tell?!", Yang asked in disbelief. "I mean, Neptune's been quiet for most of the time I've known him, but he's never said anything to me about being attractive!"

"Well, Neptune likes to give women complements based on appearance and the like, as you and I both know. However, he only ever does that because he likes to build up the self-esteem of the women he talks to. He always did it for Pyrrha before Jaune fell in love with her, but _never_ for you."

"Of _course_," Yang realised. "He knew I already possessed a confident personality, so he never saw the need to pass remarks about me."

"That's true to a point," Nora conceded, "but there's more to it than that. You said he's usually timid around you, right? Well, I've worked with him long enough to know when he's feeling _genuinely _attracted to a woman; he gets insecure around her, and he tends to be quieter so as not to say anything that might cause offence."

Yang was silent as she registered this. _Neptune's __**never**__ made a pass for me in all the time I've given him business_, the brawler realised._ Just __**how**_ _**long**__ has that Hellenic man harboured feelings for me?! Gods, I feel like such a blockhead for not realising it sooner_.

* * *

A commotion broke out at the bakery up the road, and Yang and Nora were summarily treated to the sight of Neptune getting slapped upside the head with an eclair, by a young woman in a grey business suit. The steel-eyed woman angrily stomped inside Baron's Court station, her maroon ponytail swinging wildly in the breeze as she stared daggers at the Greek blacksmith.

Neptune hung his head down as he trudged back to his shop, feeling a complete lack of dignity due to two of his regular customers loudly bellowing with laughter at his expense.

"Hey, Neptune," Nora called out. "I like the new make-up you're wearing!"

"Looks like you've suffered a bad case of pain_ à la Duchesse_," Yang added as Neptune came up to them.

Nora cackled at Yang's culinary pun as Neptune groaned. "All I did was complement her appearance," the Greek expatriate groused.

"How so?", Yang replied in genuine curiosity.

"She seemed quite blue about something, so I approached her and asked her how she was feeling. She looked up at me with a withering gaze and said ''Nothing worth concerning yourself about. I just want to remain unnoticed at the moment.'' I then joked ''That's the first time I've heard a beautiful woman wish she was unsightly,'' and that's when the eclair came for my face."

Yang and Nora both doubled over in laughter as Neptune unlocked his shop's front door. After entering the shop while removing the sign, Neptune grabbed the nearest clean rag and wiped the chocolate from his face, before jumping behind the counter.

"So what can I do for the two of you today?"

Nora handed him a list. "We've been ordered to fetch these supplies for a _huge_ mission. We can't afford to have them delivered any later than today either."

Neptune scanned the list of components and Dust powders, and both eyebrows shot skywards in surprise.

"This is a big ask," Neptune replied. "And I know for a fact I can't get all of this ready by myself."

"Oh, _come on_, Neptune," Yang whined sensually. "Don't leave me in the cold like some musty slag."

Nora almost choked on air as Neptune thought it over.

"If Nora and you help me forge the amount of bullet jackets we need _and_ promise to reimburse my soon-to-be-exhausted Dust supplies, it's a deal. Though I'll need to charge full price for this one."

"Fair enough," Yang agreed. "Be sure to make a receipt to Weiss Schnee, will you?"

Neptune gasped. "_She's_ employing you for this mission?!"

"Yeah," Nora admitted. "We should be able to convince her to send some Dust your way tomorrow as well."

Neptune smiled as he stretched his arms. "Well, be sure to tell me how well the legbreaking goes, because Weiss Schnee's patronage makes me feel much better about the whole thing. You two get aprons and safety masks on, while I prepare the receipt and the shipping box. We've got work to do."

Yang fist-pumped the air. "Alright! Time for action!"

Nora rubbed her hands together as Yang leapt over the counter. "You said it, Yang. Let's get cracking!"

* * *

While sparks began to fly at Sea-King Repairs, Ruby and the others finally arrived at the Rotherhithe Street safe-house, which straddled the gap between the former street and Salter Road east of the entrance to the Canada Docks. The former public house and tea rooms marked the border between the residential and industrial sections of the neighbourhood, facing north-east towards an uninterrupted view of the warehouse that Cinder was hiding in, amongst the others. The safe-house itself was unremarkable on the outside, but the assembly were quite surprised upon entry. Even Weiss was impressed with the facility's capacity, and therefore believed that this house had definitely seen use prior to now.

It was an unconventional design to say the least; the basement below the house contained a quintet of bedrooms on the southern third with two bathrooms and lavatories servicing all of them, and a sound-proofed workshop for weapon and vehicle storage and maintenance took up the rest of the space. The small garage attached to the ground floor was actually a large lift that lowered vehicles into the workshop for safe-keeping, with a roller door and brick walls obscuring this from the public. The ground floor itself had a laundry and a private office with a few Analytical Engines in the rear of the house, while the front two rooms were a conventional parlour and study that helped fool the casual onlooker.

The top floor of the house, meanwhile, had a lavatory in the northern side, while the kitchen sat in the middle of the floor by the stairwell, facing outwards. A large dining table and eight chairs made from dark oak sat on the southern side. The pack of cards atop the table indicated that little "pockets" of the table could be removed for playing poker, while the pool cues and billiard balls against the wall hinted that the whole table-top could be removed to reveal a pool table.

Ultimately, the whole top floor was unbound by interior walls, resulting in a near-perfect surveillance room. There were wooden folding chairs dotted around the walls that each had a kodak maker, a pair of binoculars and a notepad with pencils to aid the group in their endeavour. The walls of the two floors themselves were loaded with large, tinted windows that prevented anyone looking inside, yet allowed for unhindered monitoring of the area by the occupants. As a rather shocked Jaune involuntarily remarked upon completing a tour of the house, "When your father provides assistance, he _doesn't_ do things half-arsed."

There was a painfully long silence after that, with Blake and Ruby struggling not to laugh at Jaune's clumsy choice of words as Weiss stared him down. "Quite," was her hushed response.

"Now as far as our tasks go," Ruby spoke up, "here's what I suggest we do. Blake and I will take the weapons downstairs to be cleaned and maintained; Pyrrha and Ren will start the first watch, and both Jaune and Weiss will make their phone calls. Does that sound good?"

Everyone else nodded in response. "Good," Ruby said, "now let's hop to it!" And the three groups saw to their tasks immediately.

A little under three hours later, Nora and Yang concluded their pilgrimage through London's West End, and were lowered into the garage. Ruby and Blake were about to place the group's weapons in the garage, when they saw their cohorts arrive with the Dust components tied around Nora's waist and the rear handlebars. The bizarre sight sent Ruby into a fit of involuntary giggling, and even Blake was chuckling at the two-woman parade.

* * *

**A/N: ****_Finally_, I get the chance to tease Combat Goggles - my favourite crack pairing in the show.  
**

**Also, the woman that smacked Neptune with an eclair (which was originally called "pan de la Duchesse", hence the pun) will be appearing later.**

**Finally, there's a strong chance that I'll be going over to Melbourne in June, so I therefore plan to release chapters 11-15 before having a week or two off, then finish off the work.**

**Anyway, tune in next Friday for chapter 12. Feel free to review, follow and/or favourite the work!**


	12. Setup: Recruiting The Cavalry

Chapter 12 – Setup: Recruiting the Cavalry

_Soundtrack: Duchess – The Stranglers_

Once Blake and Ruby descended down the stairs with the group's weapons in hand, Weiss and Jaune both moved to the phone at once.

"Chief Inspector," Weiss asked frigidly, "do you move to cut me off from _my _task?"

"Only because I need to go first," Jaune replied hastily.

The ambient temperature seemed to plummet as Weiss glared daggers at the policeman.

"Explain."

Jaune took the lifeline. "Well, if Ironwood's approached first, I fear he'll try to be … _ostentatious _about securing the dockside, and that won't help with keeping things discreet. If Branwen gets spoken to first, he'll be able to ward off civilians with a more subtle hand, thus allowing Ironwood to support us directly in the field when the legbreaking starts."

Weiss nodded slowly in concession. "That is a fair assessment, Jaune. Feel free to proceed."

"Thank you, Weiss," Jaune responded as he picked up the receiver and dialled Qrow's desk number.

Five rings later, Qrow picked up the phone after a rude awakening from his whiskey-induced siesta.

"Inspector Branwen of Special Branch speaking."

"Qrow, it's Jaune."

Qrow sat upright. "Jaune; good to hear from you! What's going on with you?"

"Something _very _big, as a matter of fact."

The levity abandoned Qrow's tongue instantly. "What's happening?"

"Let's put it this way; the SDC have something unusually valuable earmarked for theft by the missing three leaders of the Grimm."

The Welshman nearly fell off his chair in response to that.

"_What?!_ When are they doing it?"

"Six in the evening, tomorrow night, at the South Greenland Docks. However, I must ask that you help me by keeping the whole thing discreet and separate from the public."

Qrow sighed. "That's going to be a bloody nightmare. You sure you don't want me in for some leg-breaking?"

"Well, maybe you could help with that personally," Jaune admitted, having seen Qrow manhandle suspects that were twice the size of the lanky Glamorgan native. "However, the SDC don't want the public getting embroiled in this, so I must ask for Special Branch's help in cordoning off the docklands that evening."

Qrow rubbed his temples in frustration. "I'm not going to be able to do this alone, you understand?"

"I know that; once I was contacted to help with the mission, I left a message with Blackford's secretary that said you needed his help to provide man power as well."

"That's a relief," Qrow confessed. "I take it that the SDC want to lull the thieves into attempting to steal it, rather than take a stab in the dark and risk the thieves fleeing?"

"Pretty much," Jaune admitted.

"This is highly irregular," Qrow replied after a pause, "but I can give my superiors the idea that I've gotten a tip-off about a hijacking in that area tomorrow night, and will need some help securing the area for a sting operation solely under my command."

"That's acceptable by me," Jaune replied calmly, "so long as you note that I helped uncover the plot and Blackford and I handled the arrests."

"Consider it done," Qrow amiably concluded.

"Splendid," Jaune enthused. "I'll ask you and your men to convene at the southern side of the Greenland docks at half past five tomorrow afternoon, by the edge of the Thames. We'll need to make sure there's no escape routes for them to use."

"Very well, Jaune. I'll be sure to make it there on time. Bye for now."

"See you soon, Qrow!"

* * *

Jaune hung up the receiver, then walked into the kitchen to pour himself a drink of water. As he went about this, Weiss picked up the phone and dialled Schnee Tower directly.

"Hello, you've reached Schnee Tower. This is the operator speaking."

"Operator, this is Weiss Schnee," the magnate enunciated clearly. "I request to be put through to General James Ironwood of the militarised security division."

There was a slight pause, as the operator tried to process this.

"V-very well, ma'am. I'm patching you through to his office right away."

The dialling tone came through the receiver, but only for a few seconds until someone on the other end picked up.

"General Ironwood's office, his secretary speaking."

"Ilia, it's Weiss Schnee here", Weiss stated.

"_Oh_, Miss Schnee," Ilia Amitola replied in surprise. "What can I do for you today?"

"I'm in urgent need to speak to General Ironwood. Is he available at the moment?"

Ilia gulped. "I'm afraid not, ma'am. He's presently conducting a training drill for an elite team of pilots who've been hand-picked to use some experimental, one-man Landsknechts, and he won't be getting back in the office until half past three this afternoon."

"I see," Weiss replied with some resigned iciness. "Get the operator to relay to you the phone number of the place I'm in at the moment, and ask Ironwood to call me as soon as he returns from the drill. Tell him that something big emerged about the Autumn Maiden."

"Understood," Ilia averred, sheer relief colouring her tone. "I'll get right on to it."

"My thanks, Ilia," Weiss replied. "Hope the day goes well for you."

Weiss hung up, then muttered a German curse under her breath.

"Something wrong, Weiss?", Jaune enquired.

"Well, not exactly," Weiss admitted. "I'm going to need to wait until three thirty before Ironwood contacts me again."

"Ah, I understand," Jaune commiserated. At that moment, Blake emerged from the stairwell.

"Weiss," she asked quickly, "can you ask Klein or someone at the manor to drop off my motorcycle here?"

"I've got a better idea," Weiss replied. "Dr. Verhart's coming over tonight to deliver the sidecars, so I'll get him to take Ninja down for you."

Blake exhaled in sheer relief. "Thanks, Weiss. I'll continue to maintain the weapons with Little Miss Excitable down there."

Jaune and Pyrrha both chuckled at Blake's astute observation as she descended into the basement, then brewed a pot of tea while Weiss quickly called Dr. Verhart about transporting Blake's beloved bike to the safehouse.

* * *

At the stroke of three-thirty, the phone rang out. Weiss intercepted the call mid-way through the second ring.

"General Ironwood, I presume?"

"Correct as always, Miss Schnee," Ironwood replied. "What can I do for you this fine day?"

"My associates and I have made some headway to pulverising the conspiracy that tried to seize the Autumn Maiden earlier this week."

"Is that so? What did you find out?"

"That the assailants are a pirate crew, under the command of one Vernal Fausse."

Weiss jumped as the sound of Ironwood punching a hole through his desk roared into her ear.

"Sorry for startling you," the Kent native replied. "I've unsuccessfully tried to apprehend that _chienne_ for her crimes three times. We never figured out where her base was."

"It's in Blackgang Chine on the Isle of Wight," Weiss responded promptly.

Ironwood facepalmed at that. "_Of course; _that makes _so_ much sense! To think I scoured Jersey and Guernsey all for nothing."

"Could've been worse," Weiss noted jovially. "She literally could've been based in Penzance."

Ironwood chuckled, despite his rather gruff bearing. "Anyway, getting back to topic; what else did you discover about the conspiracy?"

"They're set to hijack the Spring Maiden when it docks tomorrow evening at the South Greenland docks, in an attempt to set up a rival Dust company in East Asia."

A pause followed, broken by a tone that matched Ironwood's surname in easiness on the ears. "Not if I can help it. Does your father already know about this?"

"He does, and he's authorised me to do everything in my power to stop the conspiracy from winning," Weiss admitted, opting to leave out the origins of the conspiracy for the sake of her father's reputation.

"That's good to hear," Ironwood admitted. "What plans have you devised?"

"It's a solid plan, I'll give you that," Ironwood said fourteen minutes later. "Are you sure you wish to use Branwen and his men to cordon off the area though?"

"Given that they're likely unused to dealing with pirates and Dust users – or at least, not _as _used to those sorts as you and your men – it seemed the more reasonable option."

"Very well," Ironwood acceded, despite his _distaste_ for the upjumped gumshoe. "I'll come down there personally with a pair of my best guards to aid you and yours in securing the Maiden, and I'll have a boat of operatives on standby south of the docks to ensure the swines don't escape."

"Excellent," Weiss replied. "There's one last thing I'd like to ask about; what projects were these stolen blueprints drafted for?"

There was a pause. "I presume you fear their potential bastardisation and construction by our adversaries before they play their hand?"

"Hole in one," Weiss confessed.

Ironwood pumped his artificial fist in a sign of petty celebration. "A natural concern, and one I'm willing to provide an answer to. The designs that went missing are as follows; a draft for a portable telephone, schematics for fluorescent light fixtures, along with blueprints for a new kind of military vehicle, designed for heavy combat."

"What, you mean those modified Landsknechts you were testing earlier?", Weiss asked, having gotten suspicious about this erstwhile secret.

"Something else entirely, actually. It's like an enclosed, motorised carriage that has a large Dust-driven cannon atop it, complete with armour plating and a larger version of the SDC motorcycle's verdant/cobalt electric battery. We call it a Terrestrial, Anti-Infantry Navigated Cruiser – or for short, a tank."

* * *

**A/N: Nope ... there's no foreshadowing here ...**

**I forgot to mention this last time, but when scoping out the plot I found myself likening chapters 11-13 to GTAV Heist Setup missions - hence why I used the Setup prefix in the titles of those chapters. Chapter 14 itself, of course, will mark the start of the heist - but I won't spoil anything after that.**

**And yes, Ilia was the woman who assaulted Neptune earlier. I will say that she and General Ironwood are planned to have sizable roles in the next (a******nd possibly the last) fic I've got planned for the series; Mechanica Aurantiaco. I'm still unsure when it will come out - but not this year, I'd say.****

**Stay tuned for the third of our setup chapters before the heist, coming next Friday!**


	13. Setup: Mechanical Machinations

Chapter 13 – Setup: Mechanical Machinations

_Soundtrack: Highway Star – Deep Purple_

7th of September, 1890.

While planning and supply-hunting went unhindered above them, Blake and Ruby made their way into the well-appointed garage/workshop in the basement. Almost immediately, Ruby was struck dumb as she took in just how loaded the space was.

The hydraulic lift was five square meters of one-foot thick diamond-plate steel, welded onto a pair of crossbeams of the same material. These in turn were attached to a quartet of automatic winches controlled by a lever perched on the far wall. The aperture these led to was open, but that wasn't obvious when the gate was closed and the lift was in the "up" position – which it was at present.

The wall opposite the entrance was lined with every single tool one could want in a workshop – regardless of the specialisation – hanging from designated nails and hooks with labels painted on the wall. From the simple hammers, wrenches and nails to the complex Dust injectors and soldering equipment, every base was truly covered.

In front of said wall were a pair of L-shaped workbenches, not dissimilar to a pair of kitchen counters. Each harboured a sink in the corner, along with safety goggles, aprons and welding gloves. A door that lay ajar behind the tool wall revealed a smaller room with a few sanding belts and a large forge that ran on a combination of azure and crimson Dust.

At the center of the room, between the winches and the workbenches, there was a seven-feet deep pit with a couple of treadles spanning the gap. As Blake and Ruby quickly surmised, this was designed for maintaining and/or upgrading personal vehicles of any kind. Clearly, Grünwald was set to use it to help install the sidecars onto Blake and Yang's motorcycles.

In short, the garage was a modern blacksmith's paradise. As was the case for all circumstances involving mechanical things, Ruby's decorum was swiftly abandoned as the power of speech returned to her.

"OHMYGODTHISISSOAMAZING!"

Blake winced as her ears, nominally safe under her normal bow, were pierced by Ruby's excited squeals.

"I'm glad you approve," Blake said with a hint of shakiness to her voice. Ruby, fortunately for Blake's sensitive hearing, got the hint and calmed down a notch.

"OK, this is great! I'm confident we can do everything in-house, rather than outsource the work."

Blake nodded. "That's good to hear. Now, I take it you know the needs of everyone asides from me and Weiss?"

"Sure thing. Got a pen and paper at the ready?", Ruby asked.

Blake blinked, then fetched her notebook and fountain pen.

"Ready."

"Okay," Ruby replied. "Write the following things down for reference."

"So if I may draw back on this," Blake said five minutes and two reminders for Ruby to calm down later, "Yang uses 12-gauge shotgun rounds, you use .50 caliber elephant gun rounds, Pyrrha uses raw crimson Dust crystals, while Nora and Ren use compressed Dust canisters filled with fuchsia and verdant Dust respectively."

"And Nora also uses her custom-designed fuchsia Dust grenades," Ruby added. "According to Nora, the explosion has a bigger blast radius, but loses a quarter of it's stopping power due to the mixture of ivory and crimson Dust in salt water."

"_Interesting_," Blake replied, writing that addendum down for future reference. "Thanks for that, Ruby. All we need to do is wait until Yang and Nora come back from this Neptune fellow and we can start working on the munitions – before then, we can maintain the weapons."

"Sounds good to me," Ruby averred, then giggled slightly.

"What's so funny?", Blake enquired in confusion.

"I just remembered that Yang's sweet on Neptune, even though she'd never admit it. Things could get pretty hilarious."

Blake smirked. "With Bloody Nora around, _anything _can be interesting."

Ruby laughed loudly as Blake took her leave, ascending the staircases.

* * *

Despite the vigilant efforts of Ren and Pyrrha, and both Yang and Ruby that same evening, nothing unusual was spotted along the two roads the safe house allowed them to monitor. To make matters worse, Dr. Verhart revealed that he'd got a birthday dinner within his family to attend, and left post-haste after dropping off Blake's motorcycle at five, promising to come tomorrow just before noon.

However, the preparations were still underway. The Ruritanian automatist had also delivered the sidecars – both the colour of steel – and consequently gave Ruby a dossier of information about their workings and use. Given that she was the engineering expert on the team, it made some sense for Ruby to learn about them. To save time, Ruby had volunteered to unite the two pairs of vehicles that evening, so Dr. Verhart could simply have the motorcycles fueled in the background while he worked on the remaining munitions tomorrow afternoon.

Additionally, Blake and Ruby had sharpened and polished every single blade possessed by the group, and Nora and Ren now had fifteen canisters each of their chosen compressed Dust type, and Nora had 20 fuchsia grenades at the ready for liberal use on the ground. Pyrrha, by contrast, was given 30 crimson Dust crystals, which she stored in the pockets of her safari outfit's great coat. As for Weiss, she was given five vials _each _of her favoured types of powdered Dust – crimson, verdant, cobalt, azure, violet, and ivory – and had them placed within her combat outfit's coat as well.

But before the red huntress could start attaching the sidecars to the motorcycles, there was a far more pressing matter for the owners of said motorcycles to attend to. Namely, painting the sidecars to match their vehicles.

"I must say," Yang started as she donned her apron and safety mask, "I never took you for a motorcyclist."

Blake looked bemused as she fastened her glasses. "How come?", she enquired dryly.

Yang shrugged. "I couldn't shake off the thought that someone in your position wouldn't be concerned with driving one's own vehicles."

Blake sniggered in response as she loaded canisters of purple, black, yellow and brown paint into the sprayers Dr. Verhart had brought down at her request. "While that _may _be true of my employers, my Ninja's quick and efficient with travelling – and that's paramount when it comes to gathering information. I can't exactly have one of the Schnee grooms take me to back alleys and rough-and-tumble pubs whenever I need to scope them out."

She then turned to smirk at Yang as she primed the paint sprayers on a handy sheet of plywood. "And heaven forbid the idea of Weiss driving me anywhere, of course."

Yang chuckled. "Is she _really_ that bad at driving?"

Blake's smirk grew more pronounced. "_I _have to drive her cars whenever we're alone; otherwise, it's a bumpy ride when she's at the wheel and no one's around to judge her abilities."

Yang smirked back, to Blake's confusion.

"Well, I'd have thought you'd enjoy bumpy rides with Weiss."

It took Blake a second to get the joke, but her resultant expression of fright was enough to stop Yang's laughter dead, and her expression went blank in realisation.

"... you actually _are _involved with one another, aren't you?"

"Please don't tell anyone about us!", Blake whispered in a panic.

"Easy, Blake," Yang said soothingly while holding her hands out in a peaceful gesture. "I'll be sure to keep things between you and Weiss a secret."

Blake looked at Yang in wondrous amazement. "You don't object to us being sapphic with one another?"

Yang sighed, and looked earnestly at her colleague. "Given that I'm an acknowledged bastard of a wealthy member of the gentry, I have no right to judge any form of love – especially when it's deemed shameful by society."

Blake smiled as relief flooded her soul, and Yang relaxed as the Faunus stopped panicking and the pair put on surgical masks.

Twenty minutes later, the pair of motorcyclists had finished their work, with a handy pair of old bedsheets soaking up the excess paint that dripped off of the sidecars. After all, Weiss had promised to the both of them that the sidecars were part of their earnings for the mission – machine guns notwithstanding, of course. That didn't stop Blake and Yang from painting those as well, of course.

As the paint began to dry, Blake and Yang placed the spray paint guns down and shed their safety gear before leaving the back window ajar and walking out. Due to the paint fumes in the room, Ruby and the others wouldn't have been able to tinker with the Dust safely, so those munitions were consequently finished before Yang and Blake started painting.

* * *

After a pleasant roast dinner cooked by Ren, Yang and Ruby took the watch, promising to hold on until Weiss and Blake's turn that night. Jaune and Pyrrha took one of the bedrooms in the basement, and Nora took a second one while Ren cleaned up the kitchen and dining table and Weiss decided to read The Times.

Blake, meanwhile, had a weekly ritual to see to. One that held her true nature at bay. Noting that Ruby and Yang had claimed a third bedroom and Ren would have the fourth, Blake walked into the largest of the bedrooms, locking the door behind her. She removed her bow, allowing her ears to move freely while she took off her shoes and sat cross-legged on the rug by an electric heater. Blake cleared her mind as she was taught to do by Adam when she last visited Ellesmere Island, and allowed her mind to repair itself.

It was late when Blake finished meditating, well past ten in the evening. A perfunctory look around the basement floor told Blake that everyone save for Weiss had retired for the night. _Time to go start my watch_, she silently resolved while ascending the stairs. Upon arriving at the top floor, Blake remained silent as she saw her paramour gazing east. The expression on Blake's face turned mournful and melancholic as she noted Weiss's state of mind.

The magnate's back was ramrod straight, her eyes were fiercely determined but strained through a lack of sleep, and her mouth was set in a predatory glower. To Blake, this combination of body language meant one thing; Weiss was _stressed_. It couldn't be anger, because Weiss never needed anger to convey contempt for someone – the reputation of her surname and her inherent skill at veiled insults were enough to cover it. It couldn't be sadness, because Weiss would become unresponsive and unusually passive whenever that emotion coursed through her mind.

Blake softly pulled up a chair and placed her right arm around her beloved. She relaxed as Weiss leant into the Faunus's body, head resting atop Blake's bosom as sleep finally overrode her determination. Within seconds, Weiss yawned and closed her eyes, her breathing slowing down from the brisk pace it held moments before.

Blake silently vowed to keep watch as Weiss caught up on sleep for the pending fight the next day, her pantherine gaze never leaving the window for hours to come as shadows waxed and waned against the moonlight and street lamps. And yet, part of Blake wished to never stop cuddling Weiss, forever embraced in silent and unyielding love.

Hours later, the clock chimed two-thirty. Knowing that Jaune and Nora would be struggling to stir for a few minutes, Blake took an opportunity that she'd never _dared _indulge before. She gently placed one arm beneath Weiss's knees, and the other in the small of her back. Lifting her paramour off the chair, Blake slowly minced down the staircase, taking painstaking care to avoid whacking Weiss's head on the bannisters as they descended to the basement.

Avoiding scrutiny by mere seconds, Blake kicked the bedroom door shut behind her and placed Weiss gently on the bed. After locking the door, Blake quickly disrobed and threw on her nightgown before clambering into bed with Weiss.

Once inside, Blake threw the sheets over her and her beloved, and proceeded to lay her arm over Weiss protectively. As sleep finally caught up with Blake, she began to dream of a verdant field, with Weiss standing unclothed within it. Her hair was loose, reaching the small of her back and covering her chest at the front. As Blake looked down within her dream, she realised that she was also unclothed. But no erotic thoughts followed. Instead, she and Weiss simply held hands and walked through the fields, enjoying a simple and peaceful life that neither could wish to have. Still, Blake enjoyed her impossible dreams, for they re-affirmed her love for Weiss.

* * *

**A/N: More Monochrome cuddle scenes to give you guys the fuzzies.**

**Next Friday, it's the calm before the storm.**


	14. Heist: The Rotherhithe Raid

Chapter 14 – Heist: The Rotherhithe Raid

_Soundtrack: Private Eyes – Hall and Oates_

8th of September, 1890.

The following morning, the octet sat down to discuss details over French toast and coffee.

"So as I understand it," Weiss started, "we've got the rest of our personal Dust rounds to do first, then we get started on the Gatling gun rounds once Dr. Verhart arrives."

"Pretty much," Blake admitted. "Ruby was nothing if not efficient when it came to the work."

Ruby somehow managed to beam and blush at the same time, causing Weiss to stifle a laugh and the others to smirk.

"What sort of quantities are we looking at, for the record?", Blake asked with her pen in hand.

"My weapon's scythe mode means that I won't need any more cartridges than the others," Ruby noted, "but I predominantly use ice cartridges for the elephant gun, along with anti-gravity and lightning as the situation requires. So … with the stuff we have to work with, I'd suggest 40 ice cartridges, and 20 each of the lightning and anti-grav cartridges."

"By cartridge, you refer to your bespoke rounds, I take it?", Weiss asked.

"Yes," Ruby replied. "I make .50 caliber rounds with two shots of Dust powder each."

Blake, Weiss and Nora nearly spat out their respective cups of Earl Grey, English Breakfast and Irish coffee.

"That's the same as a Gatling!", a surprised Ren exclaimed.

"However do you deal with the recoil and Dust usage?", an equally surprised Weiss enquired.

Ruby suddenly realised that no-one, save Yang and Jaune, had actually _seen _her fight. "Well, my fighting style revolves around swift movements. My party trick is to fire an anti-grav cartridge behind me, and allow the recoil to propel me forward when I lunge with my scythe. That and the scythe-blade also acts as a stand for the gun when I'm at range, so I'm never blown off-course by the recoil. As for the Dust usage, my father runs a mining/engineering company that helps build new equipment for the army and the militarised parts of the SDC; getting Dust is child's play for me."

* * *

The resultant stunned silence was deftly broken by the ever-professional Blake.

"Good to know. So with you needing .50 bespoke rounds – which I'm sure Dr. Verhart can manage to make with your guidance – there's the matter of Yang and myself. I will be using 4 standard clips each of .40 caliber crimson Dust rounds and violet Dust rounds in my main weapon, and 4 clips of .32 crimson rounds with my holdout pistol. Fortunately, I'll only need to construct the .32 caliber rounds, along with 1 clip each of the .40 rounds. What about you, Yang?"

Yang perked up. "Well, I use conventional 12-gauge shotgun rounds with my scatterguns. I usually carry 2 clips per gun, but I can carry more if needed."

"3 clips each should do the trick," Weiss concluded, and Blake duly noted that in her book. "But you don't use Dust munitions?"

"Considering that the guns are a last-resort to my fists and gauntlets, I never saw the need to use Dust bullets."

Weiss nodded slowly. "Well, I have seen you fight. I'd say you'd benefit from crimson-golden Dust rounds. That'll help give us an edge over the enemy, and it'll be fairly similar to the run-of-the-mill fare you're used to."

"Are there any differences in behaviour worth knowing about?", Yang asked.

Blake concentrated for a moment, then answered. "The only thing would be an increased range and speed, but a slightly narrower blast radius to compensate."

Yang nodded. "I guess that's reasonable." The sight of Nora nodding in agreement was enough assurance for Yang that Blake wasn't talking out of her backside.

"What should we use for the Gatling guns, for the record?", Jaune asked. "I'd hate for one stray super-bullet to destroy a shop front or something."

Weiss nodded slowly. "Fair point, Jaune. I'm inclined to leave that to Dr. Verhart once he arrives; he'll likely have several options with pros and cons, knowing him."

Blake chuckled. "Even down to which jackets he should make the bullets from."

* * *

Dr. Verhart Grünwald arrived at the stroke of noon, having ferried a small country's worth of components to the safehouse with him. Blake went outside to greet him, with Jaune and Nora volunteering to cart in the boxes of parts and tools for the elderly engineer.

"How good to see you, Blake," the venerable Ruritanian greeted as he alighted from the groom's carriage.

"Likewise, Grünwald," the secretary responded as she shook his hand. "We've managed to get almost all of our rounds completed, save for some bespoke .50 cartridges."

"Ah yes," the old man replied as he walked to the door with Blake. "Good news, that is. Won't take long to make, the Gatling rounds will."

Blake nodded. "True enough, but I'd imagine integrating the batteries of the motorcycles and sidecars would take some time, given that singular task eluded Ruby's unaided skills this morning."

"It would," Dr. Verhart replied, "but working alone, I'm not. High and dry, we should be."

Blake chuckled. "Good point. Now, just what did you have in mind for the Gatling rounds?"

Five minutes later, Dr. Verhart had organised the basement's staff. Nora was responsible for mixing and injecting the four Dust types he'd arranged, while Blake was rigging the sidecar machine guns with the switching system he'd rigged up. Yang was in charge of creating the bullet jackets and sealing the Dust within their enclosures, while Ruby was assisting Dr. Verhart with the overwhelming task of integrating the sidecars and motorcycles.

By the time they'd finished at four thirty, the sidecars had a four-way switching system that alternated between azure, crimson, cobalt and tangerine Dust rounds. There were one hundred bullets of each Dust type in each sidecar, allowing for a wide array of countermeasures against the villains. Azure could freeze wheels to the streets, crimson would set fire to the carriage, cobalt could knock the cart off-balance and tangerine could puncture steel. And while Dr. Verhart began to load up the vehicles with weapons and fuel the batteries, the others washed up, donned their combat garb and ascended to the top floor for a Ren-provided high tea.

* * *

It was a magnificent spread, even by Weiss's standards. Ren had made two whole sandwiches per person; half the sandwiches were chicken with lettuce, tomato and pickle spread, and the other half was ham, cheese, cucumber and mayonnaise. A dozen scones sat in the middle of the table upon a plate, with clotted cream and strawberry jam at the ready. Ren had brewed a pot each of Morrocan coffee and Devonshire tea, setting them at opposite ends of the room.

"I never believed that I'd ever say it, but I'm quite envious of you, Pyrrha," Weiss admitted. "I wish _my _butler could cook half as well as Ren can."

Pyrrha and Jaune both laughed, while Blake playfully admonished Weiss. "I hope you'll never tell Klein you said that."

After an hour, Ren had finished his food and was consequently keeping watch from the southern wall as the others joked and laughed. Suddenly, he noticed a warehouse's front door open up in the distance. He jumped out of his chair as he saw the woman that still haunted his dreams emerging from it.

"Enemy sighted," he bugled in his best "there's a snob at the door" voice, well developed from his time as a butler.

_That _announcement halted the conversation in it's tracks. Weiss sped to the window Ren was standing next to and saw Cinder opening the locks to a warehouse some distance down Rotherhithe Avenue.

"BATTLE STATIONS!", Weiss cried out.

The octet sped down the two flights of stairs to the basement, sprinting and stumbling into the workshop. Noting that Dr. Verhart had already placed weapons in their designated sidecars with the ammunition, they all piled onto the hydraulic lift with the motorbikes, sidecars and leg-breaking equipment.

"Fill the ammunition up and recharged the batteries, I have done," Dr. Verhart called over the noise as he pressed the switch for the lift. "Good luck, everyone."

"Thanks, Dr. Verhart," Weiss replied kindly, before steeling herself as the view from the street level started to become visible. As fate would have it, the second the lift stopped at its mark and the gate opened was the same second the warehouse down Rotherhithe Street finished opening up.

All eloquence and confidence that lay in Weiss's system dissipated when Cinder and her cohorts departed. A heavily modified and armoured vehicle spilled forth onto the dockside street, with a cannon perched atop the bizarre contraption. Remembering that the first robbery in July saw a number of concept designs for vehicles and weapons go missing, Weiss now realised just what brand of monstrosity Cinder had unleashed onto London. Her choice of words perfectly summed up how pear-shaped the situation was as Cinder whizzed past and turned left down Salter Road.

"_**OH SHIT! CINDER'S IN A TANK!**_"

* * *

**A/N: All that build-up for an Achievement Hunter reference. Beautiful, isn't it.**

**I must say, t****hat punch-line was the first thing I ever wrote for the story last year, after scoping out the basic plot details - so yeah, I've been holding that one in for some time. ****And yes, the occupation of Ruby's father is another tie-in to Mechanica Aurantiaco.**

**My thanks to the last reviewer who wrote in recently; reading what you said was _so _uplifting, and I'm happy that I'm pleasing long-time fans of the AU with my efforts. I hope the last chapter's sleepy cuddle scenes were to your liking, too.**

**A car chase awaits you all next time. Stay tuned!**


	15. The Horseless Carriage

Chapter 15 – The Horseless Carriage

_Soundtrack: Ride The Lightning – Metallica_

Weiss mounted Ninja, gripping onto the second set of handlebars beneath Blake's seat, with Jaune in the front of the sidecar and Ruby piling in behind him. Likewise, Yang fired up Bumblebee, with Pyrrha riding pillion and Nora sitting behind Ren inside the sidecar.

"**FIRE AT WILL AND EVADE THE CANNON**," Weiss yelled above the noise. "_**MOVE IT OR LOSE IT!**_"

The two motorbikes _bolted _out of the garage and cut off a hansom cab as they tore left and roared down Salter Road. Yang steered Bumblebee to the right side of the street, while Blake mirrored her on the left. While the pilots floored it, a pair of miniature Gatling guns emerged at the front of the side cars. With Yang's sidecar on her left and Blake's on her right, Jaune and Ren had the ability to shoot at the tank's occupants with impunity, which they promptly started to do with their ice rounds. Nora and Ruby, meanwhile, sat in the back of their respective sidecars, and readied their weapons. With Magnhild in blaster mode and Crescent Rose in carbine mode, the pair of them started firing at the wheels of the tank as civilians fled the Mayflower Park in panic.

"Cinder!", Emerald yelled out over the roar of the engine, "Weiss Schnee's chasing us with a group of heavies."

Cinder remained calm. "Well then, it seems appropriate to give them the respect they are due. Get the cannon readied."

As it turned out, Cinder's planning wasn't half-baked in any measurable sense. She'd replaced the thin windows of the original car with plexiglass panels she'd pinched on her second robbery, replaced the piddly tires with a piston-based system she'd stripped from an unused train carriage, and had made doubly sure to use all of the half-inch thick steel she could get her hands on to reinforce the cab.

With Emerald feeding the ammunition as needed, Mercury manned the cannon. It used compressed crimson Dust canisters to score craters into the asphalt. Blake and Yang began hastily-conceived evasive manoeuvres as the chase wound its way along the curve of Salter Road, which was a wide turn from east to south.

As soon as the straight was cleared, Jaune switched to the cobalt rounds and began to fire at the base of the makeshift tank while Ren continued to use azure in an attempt to slow the targets down. Nora got lucky when she caused the tank's cannon to jam with one of her grenades, while Ruby managed to crack the back window with one of her standard ice bullets.

"Not looking good," Mercury groused as he desperately tried to unjam the cannon on his end _without _blowing the tank up.

"Tell me there's a shortcut," Emerald pleaded as the chase whirred past Durand's Wharf.

"The first turn-off to the docks is already near," Cinder reassured. "We're nearly there."

As Cinder finished her speech, the back screen shattered under the barrage of Ruby's ice bullets, and both Jaune and Ren using tangerine Dust rounds. Mercury yelped as he ducked under the seats, then emerged with a holdout pistol of his own and began firing verdant rounds at the bikes.

"**HEADS DOWN!**" Weiss yelled as the string of electric bullets whizzed past the riders.

"Good work, Mercury," Cinder called out. "Now let us depart London for good."

Cinder swerved hard around the corner to Norway Gate, which was one of many little roads that contributed to the service of the Greenland Docks. Jaune took a chance and switched back to cobalt rounds, firing a few bullets into the side of the tank. Although Cinder made it through, the tank was moving on two wheels and nearly tipped over thanks to Jaune's quick thinking.

Mercury and Emerald both dived to the left of the carriage to restore its balance, and the tank tipped down just enough for Cinder to start moving at a reasonable rate. However, she quickly realised that Jaune had managed to loosen the left treadle for the wheels, and that hampered her speed.

"Emerald, get in the back with Mercury and start shooting at our pursuers when they come around the bend."

"As you wish, Cinder," Emerald replied sadistically before clambering into the back with her pair of handguns.

As soon as that happened, the motorcycles raced around the corner. Mercury and Emerald began to fire, then ducked behind the two-inch steel seats when a hailstorm of cobalt and crimson Dust rounds sailed towards them in kind.

Mercury rose up as the barrage ceased, surmising that the enemies were conserving their bullets, only for a grenade to hit him in the face. He snarled something unprintable as his reflexes kicked in and threw the offending grenade right back at the motorcycles. Ruby, with great presence of mind, shot the grenade straight away.

It wasn't close enough to make the tank catch fire, but Mercury _still _got bowled over by the impact of the blast. Not only did he land on Emerald, but the swerve Cinder engaged in turning left onto Finland Street was such that Mercury knocked himself out on the back of Cinder's seat.

"Mercury's down!", Emerald called out above the noise.

"That's not the only problem we've got," Cinder noted, seeing none other than General James Ironwood riding his own motorcycle from the other end of Finland Street. "There's backup."

Emerald yelled in exasperation, then began the process of slapping Mercury's face until he came to.

Cinder wouldn't admit it, but her temper was starting to fray. With one of her legbreakers down and the other occupied, she was truly alone in navigating towards the ship that even then listed in the Greenland dock. Then suddenly, Cinder spotted Vernal, Vera and their crew storm the Spring Maiden immediately after it docked five minutes ahead of schedule.

"That's our cue," she yelled as she approached the turn off to South Sea Street. "Get ready to board the vessel."

Emerald nodded, and grabbed her weapons while Mercury finally came to and held the briefcase of blueprints that Cinder had ordered him to guard. Vera had been entrusted with the briefcase throughout the process of completing the tank; given that her crew laboured day and night to build it before being shipped off to Hong Kong, there'd been nothing else for Vera to actually do other than Cinder's express wishes. The crew weren't happy about getting under the hood of yet _another _Schnee vehicle, given their history in maintaining SDC ships, but the payment Cinder gave them upfront was enough to earn their restraint.

So it came as no surprise to Cinder that the pirates were going balls-out on the crew of the Spring Maiden. Vera had insisted on non-fatal beatings and/or getting thrown into the water. Cinder and Vernal had agreed to do it, with the caveat that they use masks to avoid detection by the law. But inevitably, the crew had brought Dust weapons in case there was trouble.

Unfortunately for them, there _was_ trouble on the way. Not least because Qrow Branwen exited his hiding spot at that moment, and ordered his best pair of legbreakers to join him while the rest of the Met cordoned off the area from concerned citizens.

Cinder's tank slowed down on South Sea Street, then turned left onto the first of two long moors that serviced the Greenland Docks, between which the Spring Maiden _barely _fit. The wooden pier shuddered as the somewhat damaged tank drove over it and made its way up the ramp to the ship, coming to a stop onboard the top deck.

Cinder exhaled in relief as she and her cohorts exited the tank.

"Okay, folks," Vernal bugled towards her crew men. "We're leaving now. Throw every SDC crewman into the water, release the anchors, and draw up the ramp."

Roy and Brawnz, the two strongest men, lifted up the anchor with a winch, while the others set to removing the SDC employees from their vessel. Cinder, meanwhile, took the briefcase to the bridge of the ship, placing it aboard the center console as she accessed the Analytical Engine that interfaced with the auto-navigation system her family had designed.

Emerald and Mercury, meanwhile, walked towards the ramp with the intent of removing it. However, their arrival at the winch that controlled the aforesaid ramp was interrupted quite rudely by a pair of motorcycles nearly knocking their heads off as they and their sidecars made it aboard. Promptly, Weiss and her cohorts got out of the vehicles as Emerald and Mercury recovered from their surprise and began to draw the winch. Frustratingly, it wouldn't budge an inch.

"Oh _come on_," Mercury groaned. "What t' bloody hell's keeping the ramp from movi-"

Mercury was sent flying by a well-timed punch by General James Ironwood. Flanking him was Qrow Branwen. The pair of them each brought a duo of their men to the fight, and escape suddenly looked less likely than ever before. Vera saw this, recognising the danger before her, and burst into the bridge while Emerald managed to set off the ramp winch and Mercury drew his weapons.

"Cinder, we've got company."

Cinder looked up from her work.

"How many?"

"A dozen, Weiss Schnee included."

"God _damnit_," Cinder hissed. "Get the crewmen onto them and get Vernal and yourself outside the bridge."

Vera turned to leave, but couldn't due to the pirate crew blocking off her access by running to engage the lawmen. Vernal was at their back, however, and Vera pulled her aside.

"We're to guard the bridge while Cinder gets us out of here."

Vernal reluctantly nodded, saying nothing while taking her post outside the door with Vera. With the bridge secured and the pirates occupied, Cinder went over her plan one last time. _When I arrive in Hong Kong_, she mused, _I'll have the government capture Vernal and her crew to regain some face, repair the tank, and show the Chinese government that I'm not like my forebears and am responsible enough to claim my birthright_.

Meanwhile, the situation on the bridge was chaotic, especially since Cinder began to steer the ship out of the docks. Weiss drew her sword, which now harboured an automatic Dust selector, and addressed the criminals.

"If you surrender peacefully, we'll be lenient with your sentences. Rest assured none of you will suffer the death penalty for any crime you've committed."

"_Even the Grimm crimes?!_", Ren roared in anger.

"They won't be killed if I can help it," Weiss responded crisply. "Doesn't mean they'll get a minimum-security prison or a single-digit sentence, but I refuse to kill people _solely _because I have the power to do so."

"Tell that to them," Jaune groused.

Right on cue, the pirates drew their weapons. Many of them had a pistol with Dust rounds – likely crimson, if Weiss was any judge – but Emerald and Mercury were different. Emerald had a pair of sickles that had an integrated ivory Dust gun within it, while Mercury wore steel-capped boots that were lined with golden Dust and had a pair of cudgels.

The rest of Weiss's coalition drew their weapons, while Qrow readied his derringers and Ironwood unveiled his Dust pistol. The size of it was enough to give the pirates cause for concern, but Emerald and Mercury had a plan.

"We'll take the rozzers," the latter said to the pirates. "Capture the _Eiskönigin_ and do what you want with -"

The boat lurched to port suddenly, as Ironwood's men pinned the starboard side of the ship. A blaring siren from the north caused Qrow to smirk; Blackford had commandeered a ship to patrol the northern side of the Thames on his orders. Ironwood nodded begrudgingly.

"Good thinking, Branwen," he said curtly. "Now lets bring these idiots into custody."

Cinder, thinking quickly, steered the ship and _floored _it into the Millwall Outer Dock, trying to cut through Canary Wharf out of the naval pincer movement. The belligerents struggled to stand up as the ship surged forward and came to a stop. From the bridge, a yell could be heard.

"KILL THEM ALL!"

Vera continued to stand guard, while Vernal strode forth with her pistols. "You heard Cinder. Kill them!"

"Not today, you bloody backstabbing frog," Ruby replied smugly, in an attempt to make Vernal lose control.

Which she promptly did, charging forward and screaming like a banshee as the battle commenced in earnest.

* * *

**A/N: Yep, Ruby said a Sniper kill line from TF2. I couldn't resist it.**

**As I've said before, I'll be on holiday in Melbourne for a little while, so I'll be on break for the next week or two before finishing off Amaryllis and Aconite. Stay tuned for the next chapter, which will be released on a coming Friday.**


	16. All Hands On Deck

Chapter 16 – All Hands On Deck

_Soundtrack: Achilles Last Stand – Led Zeppelin_

Brawnz, Roy, Nolan and May charged to port, engaging Jaune and Pyrrha while Ren and Nora moved to flank them. Qrow, Ironwood and their men charged forward to take on Vernal, Emerald and Mercury, while the remaining pirates took on Weiss and her employees at starboard. Vera, meanwhile, decided to run inside the bridge to hold on as the ship rocked back and forth.

Brawnz and Roy unsheathed their swords, while Nolan held up a cattle prod and May unhooked an elephant gun from its holster on her back. Jaune, having the presence of mind to bring Crocea Mors, brought his shield and sword to bear and began to duel with Brawnz. Pyrrha, meanwhile, jumped back to avoid Roy's lunge, then shot the prone man with Milo while unhooking Akouo's shield.

Roy was doused in flame from the crimson Dust that Milo unleashed; panicking, he dropped and rolled along the iron deck. No sooner had he quenched the fire and jumped to his feet than Nora swung her hammer into his stomach, breaking two ribs and narrowly avoiding a broken spleen. Roy fell backwards and lost consciousness, never to rise again for the rest of the fight.

Brawnz, meanwhile, had Jaune on edge as he threw his sword around with the well-honed savagery he'd always used on raids. Jaune was grateful that he'd brought his ancestral shield and sword, elsewise he'd have been outmatched when it came time to do the leg-breaking. Ducking under a wild blow from the left, Jaune charged forward with his shield and swatted Brawnz's sword away. Desperate to win this duel, Brawnz lunged forward and tried to tackle Jaune. However, the policeman rolled to the right as the Thai pirate moved, and swatted the man into a bollard on starboard with the shield. In a cruel twist of bad luck, Brawnz was spreadeagled by the offending bollard, and his pelvis was fractured in two places upon impact. Jaune winced as a primal yell of pain escaped Brawnz's quivering lips.

Nadir, holding a crimson Dust pistol in his left hand and a cutlass in his right, closed the distance on Ruby quite quickly. Unfortunately for him, Ruby hadn't retracted her scythe-blade while shooting at other pirates, and Nadir quickly backflipped as she swung Crescent Rose around. Landing heavily on his left leg, the Turk knew his balance was impaired as pain shot up his leg. Knowing that his cutlass wouldn't be much good if he couldn't move, Nadir brought his pistol up – and his right hand was promptly frozen as Ruby shot an azure Dust bullet into it. Nadir yelped as he tried to shake his hand loose of the ice, but a swift punch from Ruby was enough to put him out of contention.

Weiss and Bolin duelled each other, with Bolin using a bo to counter the strikes of Myrtenaster, which now possessed an automatic Dust selector embedded within the chamber. Weiss flicked it to verdant Dust and threw a lightning bolt at where Bolin was backing towards. Bolin, spotting it, jumped forward to avoid electrocution and wound up too close to Weiss for either party's liking. Bolin then jumped to Weiss's left, bringing his azure Dust pistol to bear … only to be frozen to his neck when Weiss emptied a handy vial of water in Bolin's direction as he fired. _Not bad_, Weiss concluded as she ran to help Blake.

* * *

True to their word, Emerald and Mercury took on the two big men in the middle of the combat and their cronies. Mercury went for the man in white, leaving Emerald to tussle with the thin man in black. With Vernal quickly knocking out the younger deputies with her verdant pistols, Emerald unleashed both of her ivory gun-sickles and wailed on Qrow's head with them. At least, that was the plan.

Qrow instead headbutted Emerald in the nose, breaking it and disorienting the Egyptian long enough for him to blow out her kneecaps with his pistols. Emerald fell to the ground screaming before a swift kick to the head knocked her out quickly. "That's for leading the Grimm, you _schweinhund_," Qrow hissed before rousing his easily-overwhelmed men with smelling salts.

Nolan, meanwhile, was having a problem. His cattle prod wasn't long enough to shock the woman he only knew as Bloody Nora from a safe distance, and he harboured no means of fighting at range. Sensing someone reaching behind him, the Italian spun and got Ren in the stomach with the verdant Dust weapon. Ren shuddered as he collapsed to the ground, convulsing as the electricity coursed through his system. Nolan ran towards Ren's head, reared his right leg back … and screamed as Nora blasted said leg clean off at the knee with her grenade launcher.

"_GET AWAY FROM__** MY MAN!**_", Nora yelled in fury.

Nolan turned as he began to fall over, only to fly into the Thames as the enraged Irishwoman hammered him clean off the ship. Nora had no time to celebrate, however, as May decided to start shooting at her and Ren. Before she knew it, Jaune jumped in front of her with shield in hand, and Pyrrha began to get Ren to safety.

"Thanks," Nora yelled over the cacophony, and blasted the ground beneath her with Magnhild in blaster mode. Of all the sights May ever saw in her life, a huntress clad in a pink hunting costume vaulting three metres into the air with a grenade launcher in her hand was by a mile the most surprising. Shock overwhelmed her for only a second, but it was enough for Nora to fire twice at her position. May was bowled over by the first blast, and the second hit her square in the abdomen and knocked her into the bridge window.

* * *

Ironwood, meanwhile, was dealing with a former employee of his. Mercury had been a young, promising member of the militarised security team, but his career was wrecked when he murdered his own father in 1882. Ironwood once had some sympathy for the young man who'd avenged the murder of his mother by drunken anger, but it had vanished once Weiss told him of Mercury's involvement with the Creatures of Grimm. It was also likely that Mercury gave Cinder information about security arrangements at the warehouses burgled earlier this year, and tipped her off about Ironwood sending his blueprints by train that fateful night in July.

Therefore, Ironwood wouldn't extend his mercies to his former charge. The cudgel Mercury led with was a dead giveaway to Ironwood; Mercury was left handed, so a right handed charge would result in a feint, followed by a wallop on the back with his left hand. When Mercury did just that, Ironwood didn't fall for it, instead shooting Mercury's cudgel out of his left hand with a gun embedded within his artificial hand. Mercury yelped as his middle and ring fingers departed his hand, the crimson Dust cauterising the wounds before they bled.

"YOU ARSEHOLE," Mercury screamed in a blind rage, before putting his other cudgel away and running in to kick Ironwood's chest in. Ironwood, to his credit, didn't fall over due to the hit, but he hadn't expected steel-capped boots. When Mercury turned his right leg sideways and pirouetted for another kick, Ironwood grabbed his leg with his normal hand, before a punch too powerful for human hands found it's mark. Mercury's voice was shot as Ironwood broke his leg with his bare hands, and he almost croaked in unimaginable pain as the general jumped on his other leg, breaking it too.

This display of brutality was too much for Vernal, and she promptly decided to leave. The Frenchwoman ducked underneath Ironwood's hands and rolled out of the way, jumping down the nearest ladder to flee.

Blake, meanwhile, took on Reese as the Irish lass tried to flank Weiss on the right. Gambol Shroud was in it's sword form, and Blake held one of her throwing knives in her left hand. Reese, however, decided to skip back and shoot at Blake. Feline reflexes resulted in Blake leaping above the verdant rounds coming from Reese's pistols, changing weapon forms, and pistol-whipping Reese so hard she ended up teetering on the edge of the starboard railing as vertigo dulled her balance. Just as Reese recovered, Weiss knocked her off the ship proper with a fireball from Myrtenaster.

"Stop drop and die, _h__ündin_," she yelled over the railing as Reese landed in the water with a yell.

Arslan and Yang approached one another, with the former simply wielding a chain with a hook on the end. Surmising quickly that ranged combat wasn't a smart idea, Yang decided to forgo Ember and Celica for now and charged the Egyptian with her gauntlets. Arslan was smart, however, and decided to roll around Yang, getting the cord around Yang's left arm before Yang physically stopped Arslan's movement with the chain. She then picked up one end of the chain and began to twirl around. Arslan was lifted off her feet as Yang threw her and the chain, crashing into the bridge like a ragdoll.

* * *

Cinder, already panicking as she desperately tried and failed to negotiate the tight area of Canary Wharf's Outer Dock with the Spring Maiden, jumped as the Cantonese sniper got plastered into the window on the port side of the bridge, followed by the Egyptian cook on the starboard side. As they slid off slowly, Cinder quickly surmised that the battle was lost once Mercury and Emerald's states of being were discovered.

"We'd better get moving," she murmured to herself.

With no other recourse, Cinder picked up one of the grappling harpoons that the pirates used to rob Exham Museum earlier that week, and moved to the door. Vera, noticing this, held the door opened and lay down covering fire as the pair ran for it.

"Where did you store the blueprints?", Cinder called out as they reached the stern. "They weren't in my briefcase on the bridge."

"I put them in another briefcase, safe on the bottom deck," Vera replied. "Next to the ladder on the port stern side of the ship. We're going there now."

Cinder nodded as she and Vera descended the ladder that ran on the inside of the Spring Maiden. True to Vera's words, the safe stood firm in the lowest deck. Vera quickly opened the safe, and screamed as she noticed the lack of briefcase.

"_Shit_," Vera cursed. "Vernal's obviously had the same idea and bolted amidst the chaos."

Cinder growled lowly. "She can't have gotten far. Let's go east."

Opening a nearby door, Cinder and Vera jumped a metre and _barely _made it onto the Millharbour, which led northwards to the South Quay bridge. They spotted Vernal's grey fatigues moving away at speed with a red briefcase in hand. Without a word, the pair of predators began to run. Vera, as always, held her corvine bone mask steady upon her face as she sprinted up the street. Cinder was gaining fast on Vernal, despite the weapon's encumbrance.

Half a minute later, Jaune and Qrow made the same landing. Without speaking, the pair got to their feet and began to run, before the three remaining perps could wreak more havoc. At this point, the others realised that combat had been won, and Weiss expertly docked the ship in the southern side of Canary Wharf while the others placed handcuffs on the pirates and thugs with cheery smiles on their faces. _We did it_, Weiss realised in sheer relief. _We stopped a nightmare before it began_.

* * *

Five minutes later, in an alleyway near the western end of Marsh Wall Bridge, Vernal Fausse had ditched her grey britches and jacket, survivors of many a battle on the seas, tied her hair back in a knot and patted down a silk dress she'd hidden within her clothes to provide protection against bullets. Holding the briefcase and her pair of pistols, Vernal decided on a course of action. _Find somewhere to lay low tonight – perhaps that inn over the bridge there – then sell these blueprints to a fence tomorrow for enough pay to escape to France. I'll retire and find somewhere to live, somewhere quiet and undisturbed._

It wasn't a bad plan, in hindsight, but Vernal had made a catastrophic mistake in her plans. She had severely misjudged the time it would take to make it to the inn without avoiding detection – especially when her pursuers were equally athletic, and smart enough to avoid wearing overly feminine dresses. Vernal barely made it halfway over the bridge with her skirts hitched before a chilling voice called to her.

"_Quo vadis_, Vernal?"

Vernal spun around with guns in hand … and screamed as a harpoon impaled her through the abdomen. Cinder walked slowly towards her quarry with a smile that could only be called demonic. Her voice, when it came, had the same serene tone – which made the woman all the more terrifying.

"I'd pegged you as a traitor the minute we first met, Ms. Fausse," she said as she began to reel in Vernal's bleeding body, the pain causing the pirate to scream horribly as the barbs of the harpoon cut her insides up. Cinder only seemed to smile more openly in response to the noise.

"I never needed you or your crew for the voyage … after all, my family invented auto-navigation systems before the Schnees suppressed the technology for themselves."

By this point, Cinder was standing face to face with her prey. Her smile was nastier than ever before, and Vernal _knew _she was doomed.

"So I will take … _what is mine_."

Cinder planted her left foot on the pirate's chest, and ripped the harpoon spike from Vernal's body. The blood loss Vernal suffered in that instant ensured death within minutes, even with medical attention given to her. As she fell to the ground screaming in pain, Cinder retrieved the briefcase that held the ill-gotten plans, and opened it. Cinder's smug expression faded into outright shock at what she found within; nothing.

"What _is _this … _w-where are my blueprints?!_"

"_You won't find them._"

Cinder spun around, and saw Vera standing ten metres away, with her red katana drawn in her right hand.

"_Because Vernal __wasn't__ the traitor_."

Cinder then noticed that the woman was unmasked, and held a badge in her left hand which had five words written underneath it.

"_**I AM!**_"

_Sergeant Raven Branwen_, _Special Branch_.

* * *

**A/N: Surprise. **

**Maidenbowl 2.0 will be up next Friday.**

**Stay tuned, and I hope this chapter's combat wasn't dull.**


	17. The Canary Wharf Catfight

Chapter 17 – The Canary Wharf Catfight

_Soundtrack: The Dance Of Eternity – Dream Theater_

7th of September, 1890.

As the clock neared twelve o'clock at night-time, Raven Branwen was alighting from a small rowing boat she'd acquired for her purposes. As the attempted theft of the Autumn Maiden took place, Raven placed a letter through the door of her old boss in Special Branch; the letter asking him to meet at the Charlotte's Web to discuss something potentially world-shattering that she wished to prevent. A telegram that Raven fetched the next evening confirmed his attendance, and Raven breathed a sigh of relief.

Though her boss had sworn not to do so, Raven still feared she would get arrested for her crimes. She had been sent in March 1885 to work undercover within Vernal Fausse's crew – which started with ensuring that Vernal didn't steal two dozen prototypical Dust missiles from an SDC shipment between Oslo and London. She achieved that by diverting Vernal's attention towards New England, and she made sure that whatever raids she partook in after the fact didn't affect the SDC _too _harshly. Eventually, Raven found that she _enjoyed_ life on the sea with Vernal and their crew, and went rogue.

However, once Cinder came into the picture with her plans for domination, Raven decided that she couldn't be allowed to control any part of the world's Dust trade – lest the world's economy remain at the whim of a Triad princess who'd orchestrated the bombing of the Clockwork Pavilion at Atlas Gardens the year before. Raven also knew that Vernal was a lost cause, having been coerced into doing Cinder's bidding – still, part of her wished to help her captain and lover to escape to France once she betrayed Cinder.

After tying her ship to a handy bollard, Raven dashed out of the wharf that sat next to Tower Bridge and up Lafone Street, never stopping until she reached the corner of Lafone and Tooley Street. Collecting her breath and placing her mask over her face, the Special Branch detective finally approached the Charlotte's Web with two hundred pounds ready in her left hand, and knocked firmly on the door with the right.

"Can the black wolf howl?", a voice rang out.

"Only when the white moon whistles," Raven exhaled.

The door opened, and Roderick was there as always.

"The king of jackals, if you please," Raven requested, remembering to affect an Irish accent as part of her disguise.

"You're nearly late," Roderick replied, "but I'll call all the same, Miss Brennan."

Raven nodded, then entered into one of the three booths along the wall her lot entered. Not a minute later, Chief Inspector Jonathan Warren entered in his guise as a local grass.

"Does the red rose wilt?"

"Never under the yellow sun."

Warren sighed in relief as Raven took off the mask. "Good to see you again, Sergeant. I trust you have the important blueprints you wired me about last week?"

Raven opened her jacket and revealed a manilla binder filled with Ironwood's missing plans. "Indeed I do, but I need to know something."

Warren nodded uncertainly. "What do you wish to know?"

"Is the Spring Maiden's theft on your radar – and if so, is Constable Qrow Branwen handling it?"

Warren shifted uncomfortably, before responding in a whisper. "Yes; Inspector Branwen was alerted to it earlier today by one of the regulars."

Raven gave an approving nod in response. She hadn't spoken to Qrow in five years, and she was happy to hear that he'd been promoted in her absence. Despite their differences, she still cared for her brother.

"Capital," she replied. "These blueprints are to be stored in your safe until the morning of the 9th – if either myself or Qrow doesn't request their release by midday, hand them over directly to Johannes Schnee without a single person looking within the files."

Jonathan nodded emphatically. "You got it, Sergeant. Happy hunting."

Raven shook Jonathan's hand, then replaced her mask and left the manilla folder on the table as she left the Charlotte's Web for good. _I'd __**better **__get a promotion for this_, Raven hoped silently as she journeyed back to the wharf.

* * *

8th of September, 1890.

Cinder glared at Raven. "You _dare_ steal my birthright from me?!"

Raven glared right back at her mark. "It was never yours to begin with, you crazed harlot. The Chinese government would never accept a Triad princess's claim to property, let alone a considerable fortune in Dust mines. Your efforts are forfeit – as is your life."

Cinder was furious and lost for words at Raven's revelation. She dropped the bloody harpoon, flicked her double-jointed wrists backwards and _pulled_. The seams in her jacket were torn as a rapier arrived in Cinder's right hand, and a gauche was spotted in her left hand. Raven placed her badge within her trouser pocket, and settled in a fencing stance.

With a snarl, Cinder lunged suddenly. Jaune and Qrow had just made it to the corner as the fight erupted. Onlookers ran for it as Raven and Cinder began their deadly dance. Raven was forced on the backfoot and parried hard at Cinder's wild swing, then released her odachi from Cinder's gauche and rolled to avoid a strike from the rapier.

"What should we do?!", Jaune fretted.

"Let them duel this out," Qrow responded. "But if the one with the big sword gets overwhelmed, shoot the one with short hair. _She's_ the one responsible for this mess."

Jaune nodded hesitantly, clearly wishing to have no blood on his hands, and both he and Qrow readied their service pistols with a group of crimson-golden Dust rounds chambered. Meanwhile, General Ironwood and Weiss Schnee both spotted the brawl unfolding on the South Quay bridge from the Spring Maiden's prow, where they and the others were handcuffing the criminals they had just defeated.

"What the _hell_ is going _on_?", Weiss whispered in disbelief.

"I'll go and deal with that," Ironwood averred. "Have the criminals all seated against a wall by the time I get back."

"Agreed," Weiss replied. Ironwood then clambered down the stairwell at the stern of the cargo flagship and jumped onto Millharbour. Steadying himself, he took off in a dead sprint towards Marsh Wall with murder in his eyes. _That scoundrel Branwen had __**better **__be keeping civilians safe from the carnage_, he icily prayed.

* * *

Cinder swung hard to the right, aiming to catch Raven in the neck, but Raven parried with her odachi at the last second. Snarling, Cinder then tried to use her gauche to gore Raven, only for the Welsh detective to headbutt Cinder and knock the offending blade out of her hand, scoring a gash on Cinder's left arm.

"You _bitch_," Cinder snarled, before tying a torn strip of jacket around the wound to stem the blood flow. It wasn't easy, given how she was running across the bridge away from Raven at the same time. Once it was done up, Cinder strafed left and _narrowly _avoided a lunge from Raven. Raven then jumped back towards the bridge railing as Cinder came for her.

Raven then had an idea. She backed up against the railing, as if slightly winded from the fight, and Cinder fell for the feint and charged. Raven sidestepped at the last minute and tried to trip Cinder over the railing into the river. Instead, Cinder fell forward and knocked out a couple of her teeth on the metal railing. Qrow, Jaune and even Raven winced at the bloodied, shattered enamel that Cinder spat out spitefully on the ground.

"You'll _pay_ for that," Cinder growled, before tackling Raven to the ground. Both women dropped their swords as Cinder began to punch Raven in the face. Raven then kneed Cinder between her legs, and the resultant yelp of agony distracted Cinder enough for Raven to reach for a loose piece of the pavement.

Cinder was knocked sideways off of Raven by the brick's impact with the left side of her face. Raven then caught Cinder by the throat and headbutted her again, bloodying the Asian's nose before throwing her a few metres away to her left. Looking up, Raven saw the stunned expression on her brother's face, and chuckled at the even _more _agog blonde man next to him.

"Watch and learn, boys," the Welshwoman purred teasingly before getting off the ground.

After she got to her feet, Raven conceded that Cinder was powerful, and had doubtlessly learned her swordsmanship from a handy samurai in her family's employ. But Raven also knew that Cinder was enraged – and therefore prone to making mistakes – and that she had far less experience than Raven herself did. Stepping backwards, Raven settled into her fighting stance, and played her master stroke.

"All that training and you _still _can't hurt me. So much for the power of the Triads."

Cinder roared as she arose, then swung her rapier with her left hand in a wild overhead strike – trying to catch Raven off-guard with an improvised move. But it wasn't to be; Raven effortlessly swivelled half a metre to the right, leaving Cinder exposed with her sword over-extended, pointing downwards. Without hesitation, Raven lunged forward and sliced Cinder's left eye into two.

Blood spurted out of Cinder's blinded eye as she shrieked in pain. With her depth perception now gone, Cinder's subsequent swipe at Raven stopped short, and Raven seized her chance. Without hesitation, Raven grabbed Cinder by the scruff of her neck and poured a vial of azure Dust down her throat.

"_This_ is for Vernal," Raven hissed.

Once the azure Dust entered Cinder's stomach, the reaction was lethal. Cinder screamed in agony as her movements slowed, her shriek petering out into silence as she froze from the inside out with a rictus of fear upon her face. With one heft, Raven threw Cinder's cooling corpse off the South Quay bridge, a jet of water reaching Raven's height as the villain crashed into the murky waters of Canary Wharf.

* * *

Qrow and Jaune stood there in stunned silence for what seemed like an eternity, before Ironwood caught up with them from behind.

"_Don't_ stand there gawping, like you haven't seen someone freeze to death before!", Ironwood bellowed as he approached.

Raven turned to meet the onlookers, with a cold, hard expression upon her face. This expression shifted to a termite-ridden smile as Raven recognised one of the newcomers.

"Sergeant Raven Branwen reporting for duty, brother dearest," she said mockingly, saluting with equal frivolity.

Qrow groaned as his powers of speech returned.

"The boss will have a fit over this."

"Mine as well," Jaune averred with equal ruefulness.

Ironwood cackled mirthlessly. "Just _wait_ until you meet mine."

"If you're looking for the stolen blueprints, General," Raven continued calmly, "Special Branch has them. Due to all the paperwork, it will take time for my superiors to release them on my request."

"Nonsense!", Qrow snapped quietly. "All it'd take would be an inspector or someone of higher rank to fetch them."

"So you'll have no issue in fetching those and bringing them to Ironwood over there?", Raven teased.

Once again, Qrow had let himself be tricked into doing something he didn't want to do, for someone he hated.

"_Fine_, I _will_," he groused while facepalming. "I'll be sure to get them to you by morning."

Ironwood's smile was predatory. "You'd better live up to that."

Despite the grim situation, Raven allowed herself to smile at her brother's misfortune. _Perhaps things can finally return to normal_, she thought to herself.

* * *

**A/N: There wasn't a ton of Maidenbowl moves that could've been featured in this AU, so I again hope the combat wasn't too dull.**

**And yes, Ironwood's reaction was an intentional nod to Monty Python.**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter, which will feature the aftermath of the fighting. As always, feel free to review, follow and/or favourite the work.**


	18. Reflection And Reception

Chapter 18 – Reflection and Reception

_Soundtrack: When The War Is Over – Cold Chisel_

8th of September, 1890.

The next hour seemed like a blur to Weiss Schnee. Inspector Branwen and Superintendent Blackford herded the pirates and criminals into a trio of Black Marias for processing at the Yard, after General Ironwood had steered the Spring Maiden back to the South Greenland dock to reload its original cargo and crewmen.

After the ship departed, Weiss and the others returned to the safe-house in Rotherhithe, where Dr. Verhart was waiting to remove the machine guns from the sidecars. As he set about his work, the eight fighters dropped their weapons on the workbenches with their munitions and began to discuss how to spend the rest of their evening. Immediately, Jaune seized on an idea.

"There's a middle-class restaurant a few doors west of the bridge that I've been to before," the policeman had said. "They serve some decent Rieslings, their house beer is good, and their Italian food is exceptional. Shall we go there for supper and some celebration?"

Despite only eating at home or in the most exquisite establishments, Weiss couldn't find it in herself to disagree – the fight had taken most of it out of her.

So ten minutes later, Weiss found herself sitting in the private dining room of the restaurant, around a large square table of exquisite mahogany. Blake sat on her right, and Weiss felt the comforting warmth of Blake's left hand around her right hand beneath the table. On their left, Ruby was egging Yang on as she and Nora, seated on opposite sides of a corner, were arm-wrestling each other. Ren, on the group's behalf, had left his seat next to Nora vacant while ordering the food and drinks. And on Weiss and Blake's right side, Jaune and Pyrrha sat together, with Pyrrha leaning on top of Jaune's left arm with a tender smile upon her face.

_This is lovely_, Weiss realised suddenly. _For once, I have __**friends**__, not associates – and I feel __**completely**__ at ease_. This feeling of tranquillity was alien to the magnate, but it was blissful – Weiss felt as though her soul was cocooned within a warm blanket on a winter's day. A quick glance at Blake's eyes reminded Weiss that none of this would've been possible without her paramour; after all, it had been Blake who'd contacted Ruby and Yang in the first place, then suggested that Weiss hire them on.

Ren, upon returning to the table, made Nora lose the arm-wrestling match by a kiss on the cheek. That and Nora's surprised squawk sent Ruby and Yang into a burst of laughter, and the rest of the table followed in a chain reaction. Even Weiss lost her composure as the waiter emerged with the drinks. Ruby and Blake both received ginger ale, while both men received a pint of beer and the remaining ladies got their choice of drinks – a glass of brandy for Pyrrha, a flute of champagne for Weiss, and a glass of Riesling each for Yang and Nora.

After thanking the waiter, Weiss stood up with her flute in hand. Noticing the cue, the others readied their drinks and stood up as well.

"Here's to our success," Weiss said while raising the glass, "and to us as a group of friends."

"Hear hear," the other seven responded, before clinking their drinks and taking a swig.

As they sat down, Weiss decided to make an offer to her new friends.

* * *

"As we all know, both Ruby and Yang work for me and Blake these days," Weiss continued. "After today's performance, I'd be more than willing to have all of you on my payroll, working with us."

"I appreciate the offer," Jaune said after a pause, "but my work in the police force is more important to me. _However_," he added, "I _could _help you by being your point of contact with the police. After all, should something socially damaging happen again, it'd help you considerably if I could arrange sting operations with the hunters on your payroll and smooth things over for the public."

Weiss nodded, impressed at Jaune's idea. "That's a fair call, Jaune. What about you, Pyrrha?"

"Well," Pyrrha started hesitantly, "I'm ... not going to be able to do it regularly. I'm now the lead curator at Exham, of course, and that takes up an awful amount of my time – had there been no robbery at Exham in the first place, I'd have been too swamped to help with this. Having said that, I can be a stand-by huntress – in case Ruby, Blake or Yang gets sick before a job or some other emergency arises, I'll do the work instead."

"That's a reasonable idea, I suppose," Weiss admitted. "What about you two?", she asked of Ren and Nora.

"I'm all for getting regular work, Weiss," Nora eagerly stated. "Working for you would make my money go a fair bit further than it usually does."

"And I'd like to do so as well, actually," Ren admitted. "I've been considering my future for a while now, and I do want to get into combat again. I even have an idea as to who could replace me as Pyrrha's butler once I start with you."

"Who did you have in mind?", Pyrrha enquired gently.

"Remember Mr. Daichi?"

Pyrrha's eyes lit up at that. "Of _course_; Yatsuhashi would be a good fit for the house. However, this does mean you'll need to move from the rooms next door as soon as you can."

"That's alright," Nora replied. "I'll have him live with me in Hammersmith."

"Good to hear," Pyrrha responded. At that moment, Jaune produced some envelopes.

"What's in those?", Ruby asked.

Jaune looked up as he passed the envelopes to their intended recipients. "These are invitations to our upcoming wedding."

"_Nice_," Yang drawled. "You finally settled on a date for it!"

"19th of November," Pyrrha replied. "I also have a few favours to ask of you all."

"Oh?!", Weiss and Blake asked in unison.

"Would any of you be interested in joining the bridal party?"

The response was an unanimous "Yes!", and Jaune and Pyrrha were on cloud nine for the rest of the evening. After having their first slice of pizza in their lives, everyone else in the room was in the same mood.

As the heroes of the day returned to the safe-house for some well-earned rest that night, Emerald Sustrai wasn't taking Cinder's death well in her cell – let alone her own inevitable meeting with the gallows. Most who'd known the compulsive liar wouldn't have believed that Emerald could feel genuine grief for another living soul – but most didn't know how Emerald saw Cinder.

Emerald remembered when she first met Cinder; it was when she'd taken the name of Sustrai in deference to her profession of choice, and had been handed the reins of the Grimm Security forces in exchange for leaving her father alone years before. Soon enough, Emerald had corrupted the organisation's leadership. Mercury was _easy _to work with, being little more than a thug. Hazel was trickier, but convincing him to control the flow of crime rather than stop an endless tide did the trick.

But Cinder, _she _was something else. Emerald found it impossible to get into Cinder's head, because she was _that _good at manipulation as well. Emerald consequently began to see Cinder as an equal, and therefore decided to trust her completely – the only time she'd ever done so since her trust in her father was shattered by his abandonment. Eventually, this mutual respect grew into something stronger, and Emerald found herself wanting her love's warm embrace one last time before she died by the hangman's noose.

* * *

9th of September, 1890.

The following morning, Qrow and Raven oversaw the extraction of Cinder's body from the South Quay in Canary Wharf. The sight of the azure Dust ingestion turned Qrow's stomach, and he _narrowly _avoided throwing up at the state of Cinder's corpse. Raven, as usual, smirked at her brother's misfortune.

"I'd thought your alcohol habit would've rendered you immune to the pain of vomiting, Qrow," Raven started teasingly as the body was laid out on a gurney and covered with a sheet.

"Shut it, Rae," Qrow grumbled. "I'm just glad to get out of Ironwood's hair and forget about world-wrecking conspiracies."

"Fair enough," Raven replied. "Speaking of, how _did _you get on Ironwood's wrong side?"

Qrow blanched and let out a withering sigh. "Crashed a Black Maria with a blown tire into his town-house's greenhouse. He's never let up about it."

For the first time since getting embroiled with Cinder, Raven found it in herself to laugh freely.

"Incidentally," she eventually replied, "didn't you say earlier that Warren's looking for a new inspector in the department? I was thinking about applying for promotion."

Qrow nodded somberly. "Yeah. Turns out that Ramsey's retiring to ill health. Cirrhosis of the liver, as I recall."

Raven winced at that. "That's unfortunate."

At that moment, a pair of new arrivals emerged on the South Quay bridge where the pair of detectives were standing.

"Inspector Branwen?"

Qrow turned, and saw two of Weiss's heavies.

"Ruby and Yang, right?"

"That's us," Yang responded.

Qrow half-smiled at that. "What brings you two here today?"

"Well," Ruby started, "Weiss wanted to know if Cinder was dead or alive."

Qrow looked stricken. "She's dead alright. They're loading her into an ambulance for the morgue right now." He pointed to the western end of the bridge, where Ruby and Yang could see a white sheet with icy spurs jutting out at odd angles.

"That's … disturbing, but Weiss will be relieved," Yang remarked eventually.

"A pragmatic view, to be sure," Raven admitted. "Weiss will likely feel disappointed about not punishing Cinder personally, but she'll sleep easier without Cinder's designs weighing on her shoulders."

The others nodded. Suddenly, Qrow realised something.

"By the way, you're half-sisters aren't you?"

"Correct," Yang replied promptly. "Our father, Magnus Rose, had -"

"Wait, _Magnus Rose _is your father?!", Qrow exclaimed. "Me and Raven were friends with him as school kids!"

"I'd honestly thought he still lived in Hong Kong," Raven admitted, with an easy smile on her face. "Good to know he's still around, honestly."

"Would you like us to get him in touch with you two?", Ruby replied. "I can give you his business card if you like."

"Please do," Qrow responded kindly.

While Ruby and Yang left Marsh Wall a minute later, Weiss and Blake were entering the Schnee Tower, and were making their way to Ironwood's office for a mutual debriefing, with Myrtenaster and Gambol Shroud on their person. They'd have usually checked their weapons at the door, but Weiss decided that she wouldn't be taking chances today.

Upon arriving, Ilia quickly let them into Ironwood's office.

"Weiss Schnee and Blake Belladonna to see you sirs," she announced before opening the door fully.

Weiss and Blake quickly walked in, and saw Ironwood seated at his desk. However, Johannes Schnee stood behind Ironwood's right shoulder, a rare smile of approval plastered on his face. Weiss smiled with warmth back at him, with the message in his eyes received loud and clear. _Well done, Weiss; you're a worthy successor to my line._

* * *

**A/N: Early upload this week, because I've got a DnD session to run in roughly five minutes.**

**Here's where the main plotline comes to an end, folks. However, this isn't the end of the fic; there's two more chapters to go before that.**

**I will say that Ruby and Yang's father's full name in this setting - due to Yang's mother being Chinese and Raven being a different character altogether - is Magnus Apollo Drake Rose. Since his given names match "Taiyang Xiao Long" in terms of definition (i.e. Great Sun Dragon), I thought that was reasonable.**

**Stay tuned for the next chapter, where we see Weiss celebrate her birthday, and the eventful year that's been.**


	19. It's Drawl In The Family

Chapter 19 – It's Drawl In The Family

_Soundtrack: Chocolate Cake – Crowded House_

11th of October, 1890.

The American Bar was one of the three gems that studded the crown of the Savoy Hotel. Newly built and furnished, it was the perfect spot for high-class drinking, especially considering the barman's practice of creating new cocktails in honour of distinguished people. It was a practice that Blake Belladonna wanted to exploit for the love of her life, given that Weiss was celebrating her birthday today.

But since Weiss was slated to have a ball during the evening, alongside a breakfast with her parents and great-aunt and a full day of work besides, Blake had to be careful when organising the event. First, she convinced Johannes a week after Cinder's fall that Weiss would be having a business lunch with her new squadron of hunters, discussing tactics, training and upcoming missions from noon to two in the afternoon. Johannes agreed to expense it at the Savoy fairly readily, given his gratitude towards them for ensuring that the Chinese would give him the Dust mines at the end of the year.

Second, Blake had to convince the others to show up with a gift from each of them. Jaune and Pyrrha managed to get half-days off from work to come along, but all of them were stuck for ideas as to what the world's richest and most powerful woman could actually _want_. Fortunately, Blake had lines of enquiry for each of them to pursue over the next two weeks.

The last part was guaranteed once Blake rang the Savoy to book out a table for eight in the American Bar; in a stroke of luck, the bartender had answered the phone call directly the week before the day. Once he heard the words "Weiss Schnee" and "birthday lunch" in the same sentence, he swore up and down that he'd make Weiss a cocktail in honour of the occasion. He even arranged for a platter of sandwiches and some cakes to be brought in from Escoffier's kitchen, and even asked Blake for the sorts of songs Weiss preferred to hear from the piano player.

And finally, the day arrived. Blake turned off the alarm a minute before it was due, then cleaned herself up in the shower as quickly as possible before rousing her paramour.

"Happy birthday, my snow angel," Blake purred into Weiss's ear.

Weiss yawned and roused herself from the bed with a lazy smile on her face.

"Thanks, my purr-fect queen."

Blake's resultant eye-roll sparked a burst of gentle laughter from Weiss.

"Moving on," the secretary responded, "we've got breakfast in half an hour with your family. Shall we get you dressed and freshened up?"

"We may as well," Weiss conceded, rising out of the bed before a quick shower. Blake decided to save time and get Weiss's blue skirt suit ready, before donning her grey trousers and shirt over her undergarments.

* * *

The morning's breakfast proved to be more convivial than usual. Not only had Margerethe shown up as promised, but her sole granddaughter had come to visit from America, where her son had moved long before to hawk the family's wares there. Weiss was stunned to see her second cousin stroll in; though the interloper was a foot taller and not as svelte as her, Weiss could've sworn that this woman was a long-lost sister of sorts upon first seeing her. Then Winter began to speak, and the notion was quickly disabused.

Blake, taking her breakfast separately in deference to the family, met Weiss in the garage around half past eight.

"How did the morning go?", Blake asked politely.

"It was … acceptable," Weiss allowed. "I'm not all that fond of my second cousin though, genial as she may be."

"If Winter really is that kind," Blake asked as they entered their usual car, "then how come you don't like her?"

Weiss grimaced, ashen-faced. "Because it's obvious that she was raised without a shred of elocution or etiquette; as a result, her loud speech is _ear-grating _to say least."

"And Nora Valkyrie's brogue _isn't_?"

Weiss was caught completely off-guard by that, but recovered after a pause as Blake fired up the engine and began to drive to the Schnee Tower. "Well … Nora's voice is more melodious. She might be loud, but her voice has a pleasant lilt to it."

"And Winter's doesn't?"

"It's not _that_, per se," Weiss admitted, in a tone that told Blake that Weiss was _trying _to look past it. "Winter just sounds like someone who's trying to sound formal, but can't quite manage it. I _know _she's a nice enough woman, but it's a struggle to look past it."

Blake's stare softened at that. "Nothing worth doing is ever easy."

Weiss nodded, conceding the point. "Fair enough. I wasn't rude to her, if that counts for something."

"It does," Blake replied kindly. "You used to be quite aloof with people, but you've definitely become more collegial in the last month or two."

Weiss reflected on that, and realised what Blake meant. "That's true. I guess having Ruby, Yang and their friends around helped with that."

Blake fought the urge to smirk at that, knowing _exactly _what she'd arranged for later that day.

* * *

After two meetings with shareholders and Weiss tying up her _loose ends of business_, Blake entered Weiss's office in the Schnee Tower at the stroke of eleven-thirty.

"Weiss, we've got a twelve o'clock meeting in the Strand to tend to."

Weiss looked surprised. "Is that right? Who with?"

"General Ironwood," Blake lied easily. "His staff just made some breakthroughs on that project he spoke of after we defended the Autumn Maiden from those thieves. He wanted you to be the first to know, given that your father was busy arranging tonight's festivities."

Weiss nodded stiffly. "Alright, then. It's best we don't keep him waiting."

Blake relaxed as she followed Weiss out of the office. _Nothing like a dash of the truth to garnish a lie_, she noted.

Five minutes before twelve, Blake finally led Weiss into the American Bar, which had been decorated in the same Art Deco style as most buildings built in the last decade or so. The pianist, upon sighting Weiss, started to play one of Byrd's madrigals; Weiss had been expecting "jazz", a new style which Winter had spoken of at length over breakfast, and was quite surprised that the pianist knew her tastes. However, that feeling of surprise was amplified astronomically by what awaited her in the private booth on the far wall.

"Happy Birthday!"

Weiss jumped at the sight of Ruby, Jaune, Yang, Pyrrha, Ren and Nora crammed in the booth. A quick glance at Blake revealed that the meeting was a ruse.

"My gift to you."

Weiss smiled almost teary-eyed at the group. "Thanks, everyone."

As Ruby and the others began to hand gifts over, Blake took out a piece of paper that she'd scrawled everyone else's drink orders on and strode to the bar.

"Ah, Miss Belladonna," the bartender greeted. "I presume Miss Schnee and your other guests have arrived?"

"They have indeed, sir," Blake said before handing over the paper. "Here's the drink orders for the table, except for mine,"

"I see," the bartender replied after poring over the writing. "What would you like to drink?"

"A mineral water, please," Blake replied, "because I'm driving."

"Fair enough," the bartender conceded. "I'll get all that right away, along with the food."

* * *

Some minutes passed, and the bartender was nearly finished. He'd readied the other drinks on a large tray, but was now preparing the _coup de grace _for this occasion. The bartender poured half a cup of lemonade into the shaker, along with fifty millilitres of bombay sapphire gin and a dash of blue curacao. He then filled the shaker to its maximum with ice cubes, and shook it vigorously for a full minute.

After that was done, he strained the contents into a chilled glass filled with crushed ice, and garnished the drink with a blueberry lodged on the rim. Before bringing over the new drink, he lifted the glass to mix the now sky-blue concoction and placed it on the tray. Making his way over to the table, the bartender placed the platter of sandwiches down on the table first, then handed out the orders.

"A pair of Strawberry Sunrises?"

Ruby and Yang nodded, and the bartender handed Ruby the one without alcohol in it on Blake's instructions.

"Two glasses of champagne?"

Nora and Pyrrha picked them up gratefully.

"Two half-pints of beer; for the gentlemen, I presume?"

"Right enough," Jaune responded before he and Ren were handed their drinks.

"A glass of mineral water for you, Miss Belladonna."

"My thanks," Blake replied as she received the glass. Finally, the bartender handed his latest masterpiece to Weiss."

"Miss Schnee, I present to you the Snowstorm, which I've made and named in your honour."

Weiss was stunned; she'd couldn't wait to tell her father that the Savoy's tradition of naming drinks after their guests came to _her _first and not _him_.

"My thanks, sir," she thanked kindly. "I'll be sure to savour the fruits of your labours."

The bartender smiled and bowed slightly before walking out of the room. As he did so, Yang took the lead and picked up her glass.

"I'd like to propose a toast. To Weiss!"

"To Weiss," the group replied before they clinked glasses and sank a few sips of their drinks. Despite her preference for fine wines, Weiss found that the Snowstorm was to her liking.

* * *

Two hours later, and the lunch was over. Nora and Ren had a nightly mission to prepare for, while Jaune and Pyrrha had to go back to their jobs. Saying their goodbyes, the quartet tore off towards the Temple station. As for Ruby and Yang, the pair weren't engaged, and therefore decided to see their employers off at the carpark.

"Ruby," Weiss said as Yang wheeled over her motorbike and sidecar, "I dare say that this was the best meal I've had since we dealt with the pirates."

"Agreed," Ruby replied. "I feel much safer knowing they're set for fifteen years of hard labour, although I still dislike the use of the gallows for Mercury and Emerald."

"True," Weiss admitted, "but I'll sleep easier knowing they won't threaten anyone else again."

"Anyway, we'll see you soon, Weiss. I just hope our gifts weren't too dull for you."

Weiss smiled warmly. "On the _contrary_, Ruby; you've all given me the greatest gift I could ever get from someone else; friendship."

Ruby smiled tenderly as she and Yang jumped into Bumblebee and Hornet's Nest and took their leave. Once they were out of sight, Weiss kissed Blake on the cheek.

"I can't thank you enough for today's gift, my love."

* * *

**A/N: The awkward moment when a teetotaler invents a cocktail.**

**As a treat for you guys, I'm uploading this chapter early, and the finale at the regular time. Stay tuned for Jaune and Pyrrha's wedding, folks!**


	20. One Perfect Day

Chapter 20 – One Perfect Day

_Soundtrack: Two Of Us – Supertramp_

19th of November, 1890.

The southern county of Buckinghamshire was picturesque at a quarter to twelve on this autumn day. It would likely prove to be the last sunny day for the year of 1890, with the mercury hovering around twenty-five Celsius and nary a cloud or breeze to be detected. To put it simply, it was one perfect day. And that suited the wedding of Jaune Arc and Pyrrha Nikos just fine, given that the groom's father was hosting the event in his mansion.

The inner courtyard, which Colonel Arc had volunteered as the venue for the wedding ceremony, consisted of a block of immaculate grass, bifurcated in both directions by paths of sandstone pavers. The vertical linked the parlour at the southern end of the house with the ballroom, and the horizontal linked the formal dining room with the western foyer. Along the edges lay hedgerows, with a solitary rose bush at each of the four corners. The effect was a blend of simplicity and opulence that the military family had always favoured throughout the centuries.

For today's festivities, the Arc family had arranged two rows of eight chairs, split in halves by a red velvet carpet that lined the vertical pathway. An iron archway stood proud over the parlour entrance, painted green and adorned by scores of daisies and red carnations – the respective favourite flowers of Jaune and Pyrrha. Where the pathways intersected, an oak lectern was placed in lieu of a proper altar, and a bible was supplied for the minister concerned. And finally, an upright piano stood ready at the eastern wall, with Kieran Nikos seated and ready to play the time-honoured march of Mendelssohn for the service. He'd learned this piece once he finished his studies at the Elder Conservatory, knowing that someday the motherland would call him back to use it.

Fiona and Flynn Nikos sat in the front right row, saving their patriarch and younger scion seats for when they finished their tasks for the service. Opal and Bridget then led their husbands behind the Nikos clan. Likewise, Colonel and Lady Arc took their seats on the left front row, with Sienna and her husband next to them, and the youngest four Arc daughters made their way behind their elders. All of the Arc daughters wore the colours they were named after, with Jennifer opting to wear silver in deference to the bridal party. Fiona and Xanthe had followed suit with the younger women, adorning a crimson and gold dress respectively, while the men opted to wear black tie. Except for the Colonel, who wore his dress uniform and medals.

Once everyone was seated, the elderly priest that had officiated the wedding of Coco and Fox Alistair came to the lectern and spoke as loudly as he could.

"Welcome, everyone, welcome. We gather here under the aegis of our Lord to bear witness to the marriage of Chief Inspector Jaune Arc and Doctor Pyrrha Nikos. I shall start by introducing the groom and his party. First, we have Mr. Yatsuhashi Daichi."

The giant Japanese man, who had since replaced Ren as butler to Pyrrha, looked comfortable in his suit as he took his spot at the far right of the altar.

"Next, we have Superintendent Nolan Blackford and Inspector Qrow Branwen."

The pair of policemen strode forward, doing their best to appear comfortable in the midst of opulence they rarely got to experience.

"They are followed by Mr. Neptune Vasilias and Mr. Lie Ren."

Neptune had forgone his blue beret for once, and his friends now knew why he wore it; a small bald patch was evident within his otherwise perfect black hair. Ren, meanwhile, had his locks pulled back into a braid.

"Now, we have the best man, Mr. Fox Alistair."

Fox walked comfortably into his spot at the head of the groomsmen, glasses firmly affixed to his face.

"And last, but not least, the groom; Chief Inspector Jaune Arc."

Jaune's entrance was the most confident display he'd ever put on. Even his father was visibly impressed as he watched his son proudly take his place before the altar.

* * *

"Now," the priest continued, "I welcome the bridal party. Starting with Ms. Yang Xiao Long."

Yang's entrance was as graceful as a muscular bastard could be. After careful coaching from her employers, her formal walk lacked the swagger that she was known for.

"Next, we have Ms. Blake Belladonna and Ms. Weiss Schnee."

The wealthiest two women in the world strode forward, with Blake's natural grace eking through her dress. Weiss, by contrast, had her back ram-rod straight, and her face was trying desperately to _not _look hard and crystalline.

"After that, we have Ms. Ruby Rose and Ms. Nora Valkyrie."

Ruby walked as slowly as she could manage, given her naturally excitable disposition, but her face had her trademark smile plastered all over it. And as for "Bloody Nora" Valkyrie, the Irish force of nature was as cheerful as she ever was as she followed her friend up the aisle.

"Now, we have the matron of honour, Mrs. Coco Alistair."

A slightly pregnant Coco minced carefully into her designated spot, with Fox keeping an attentive eye on her belly as she moved into place.

"And finally, the bride, Doctor Pyrrha Nikos."

Pyrrha then walked in with her father Titos at her side, and Kieran started the march as requested. Pyrrha wore a blue-white dress with a veil and train, which looked like a clear sky reflected off of ice. A large pendant with three sapphires in it was clasped around her neck, matching Jaune's tie perfectly. In keeping with the bride and groom, every member of the bridal party wore white dresses, and the groom and his men all wore black three-piece suits and white dress shirts, as befitting the occasion.

However, as the keen observers in the crowd noticed, the necklaces worn by the women matched the ties on the men. Yang, for instance, had the plainest of them all; a mere gold chain with a small drop of amber appended; Yatsuhashi, meanwhile, had worn a gold tie. Blake and Weiss, the wealthiest of the bridesmaids, respectively had amethyst and diamond in their pendants – with Blackford and Qrow wearing purple and grey as a result. Ruby, meanwhile, was able to find a decent, if smaller, piece of her namesake for her pendant, and Nora's most recent mission resulted in her claiming an emerald and two small garnets; keeping the former, she gave Coco the latter. Neptune, Ren and Fox therefore wore red, green and brown ties with their suits.

As Pyrrha made it to the altar, Kieran finished and made his way back to the seat.

* * *

"Welcome everyone," the priest began with his bible open and ready. "Today, we're here on this beautiful autumn morning to mark the union of two remarkable people into holy matrimony. Today's reading comes from chapter four of the first epistle from John the Evangelist. _There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us._"

"And the brave pair of souls before us have definitely cast aside their fears in the face of adversity. Pyrrha has let nothing stop her from achieving every goal she's set her mind towards over her twenty-five years, whether it be as a scholar, adventurer or surveyor. As for Jaune, he's worked diligently to calm the fears of London's populace as a policeman for several years, never ceasing his vigil over the streets and alleyways many of us call home. It's fair to say, then, that the union of these two courageous people will never suffer from fear, or any negativity at all."

The ancient priest placed the holy book down at this point, then looked to the best man.

"Now, I'll ask the best man to present the rings."

Fox produced the rings for the pair. Specially forged by Neptune for the occasion, both of them were bands of gold that had small diamonds around each centerpiece. Pyrrha's ring featured a crimson-Dust laced ruby, and Jaune's ring bore an azure-Dust laced sapphire. Once the rings were readied, the priest began his usual spiel regarding the rings.

"These rings are the symbols of the vows here taken. They mark the beginning of a long journey together, filled with wonder, surprise, laughter, tears, celebrations, grief and joy. May these rings reflect the warmth of the lives that flow through them today. Two lives are now joined in one unbroken circle. Wherever they go, may they always return to one another. May they grow in understanding and compassion. May the home that they establish be a place of peace, comfort and sanctuary. As I invite Jaune and Pyrrha to make their marriage vows I remind everyone here that this is the heart of the ceremony. The vows they make before us are sincere and binding promises that are intended to keep them together for the rest of their lives."

Jaune spoke his vows first. "I, Jaune Gareth Arc, take thee, Pyrrha Alizarine Nikos, to be my wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I plight thee my troth." Pyrrha responded in kind. "I, Pyrrha Alizarine Nikos, take thee, Jaune Gareth Arc, to be my wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God's holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth."

At this point, Jaune placed his ring on his beloved's finger, Pyrrha doing the same, and completed the vows.

"With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen."

The priest nodded, and spoke his last for the service.

"I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride."

Time seemed to slow at the very stroke of noon as Jaune leaned into Pyrrha's face and kissed her heartily. There wasn't a dry eye in the audience to be seen as the applause and cheers erupted. The priest led the couple over to the wedding register behind the altar, and they signed it with Fox and Coco as the witnesses.

* * *

Once the ceremony finished, the audience partook in cocktails and hors d'oeuvres in the formal dining hall in the eastern wing of the house. The Arc family made a beeline for the northern half of the table, with the Nikos clan on the other side. The bridesmaids and groomsmen sat between them, leaving Jaune and Pyrrha a pair of seats in the middle of the table, facing the doorway. Fox, in his capacity as best man, rose from his seat between Jaune and Colonel Arc.

"Ladies and gentlemen, family and friends of the groom and bride. As best man to the groom, I feel it necessary to make a speech before the food is served.

"The first time I met Jaune, we were both eighteen, and he and I were first-years within King's College at Cambridge. He was preparing to study criminology, and I accounting. All the same, we both took on classics as an elective, and we became fast friends as a result. Whilst there's a lot to be said of our time at university, most of the things we got up to are best left in the past."

Jaune blushed purple with embarrassment as his father and the rest of the table sniggered in response. Even Pyrrha had a slight smirk on her features, as Fox continued.

"After graduation, Jaune and I went our separate ways for a time. He tried serving in the army, while I managed to start working as a clerk within the Bank of England. Eventually, after three years and a couple of promotions, I was invited to a dinner party at a town-house in Kensington by Pyrrha, who was and still is best friends with my wife. Having suffered from grey-scale vision since birth, I didn't recognise the man that Pyrrha brought home that night with these glasses on, until after he ran off with the host and two other guests to apprehend a maniac in the clockworks of Big Ben. That was _certainly _one way to get re-acquainted with an old friend."

The table guffawed, in the usual manner that connoted enjoying a darker brand of humour.

"Not long after we were re-acquainted, I moved to become the head of the accounting department at Scotland Yard, where Jaune was the newly-promoted Chief Inspector. We've since got along famously, not least due to Jaune knowing that I control his wages and behaving accordingly."

This got the table roaring with laughter; even Jaune began to cackle as his wife threw her head back and laughed.

"But in all seriousness, I've been inordinately blessed to have Jaune and Pyrrha as friends. To give an idea of how close we all are as friends, they were best man and maiden of honour at my wedding on St. Valentine's Day this year, and I felt it was fitting to return the favour this time."

At this point, Fox picked up his champagne flute, cuing the others to get theirs filled and in their hands. Once that was done, Fox concluded his speech.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I propose a toast. To the bride and groom!"

"Cheers!"

* * *

**A/N: And there we have it, ladies and gents. Amaryllis and Aconite is complete!**

**Thanks to all of you who reviewed, favourited and followed the work, as well as those fans on Reddit who liked what they saw and gave their approval.**

**And once again, I'd like to thank DezoPenguin for supplying the setting in the first place. Wherever you are in the world, I hope things are going well for you.**

**Now, as for the future of the Belladonna Lilies series, I've still got one more fic confirmed and in the pipeline - Mechanica Aurantiaco (which is Latin for Mechanical Orange, for the record). There'll be some pre-existing characters appearing, along with a few others that haven't been introduced as of yet. The only thing I'll reveal at this point is that Oscar Pine will be one of the two protagonists in the story.**

**After it's released, that might be it from me. I do have an idea about a fic focusing on Sun and Velvet with the wider group of Faunus on Ellespoint Island, but no plot points have come to mind other than Bunanas becoming a reality and the Albain twins being villains. As much as I'd like to write that someday, it'd be amazing to see if someone else can flesh that idea out.**


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